Wasted
by Lila
Summary: This takes place fairly early in the game, where Elena joins the Turks. There is a dark secret to the blue suits that protect Shinra, but Elena is spared from it, under Tseng's orders. But when he dies...
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Shinra, the Turks, or anything to do with FF7. More like they own me… But I DO own my three original Turks. *nodnodnod*

Wasted

Lila

Prologue

"How did it happen, Rude?" Elena brushed her blond hair back from her face as she talked excitedly. "How did you become a Turk?"

Rude sighed inwardly and wished for the hundredth…no, the thousandth time that Reno was still here. The redheaded Turk had been given a week off to compensate for the wounds he'd received in the fight with AVALANCHE. Rude wasn't sure whether to curse him or envy him. Elena had been talking non-stop ever since she had found out she was promoted to Turk rank. Rude had been assigned, to his resigned displeasure, to give her a uniform and explain how the Turks worked. 

He dreaded that part. 

He walked quickly through the Shinra halls to the Turks HQ, Elena trotting to keep up with him. Even though he was indoors and the lighting was dim, he still kept his sunglasses on, as he always did. Elena had, among many other things, questioned him about that, but he didn't bother answering, same as he didn't bother replying to most of her questions. She didn't mind, apparently, turning to some new topic almost immediately.

"Well, aren't you going to answer me, Rude?" Elena giggled childishly. "You aren't listening, are you?" She blushed suddenly, her pale skin acquiring a faint rose color. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking so much. I'm just so excited! I can't believe I'm really a Turk!"

Rude felt sick. "……"

Elena fixed her hair self-consciously. "I just hope I can be professional enough." She smiled. "I've always wanted to be a Turk."

It was a good thing they had arrived to the steel door by this time. Rude couldn't take it anymore. Rather than say anything to Elena, he put out a hand to halt her and took out a keycard, which he inserted in the slot by the door. He didn't turn, but he could feel Elena's wide eyes watching. 

The door slid open. Without a word Rude entered. Elena followed after him.

Whatever she expected the Turks staff room to be, it wasn't what she saw. A small black and white television occupied the far corner. Instead of antennae, it had a bent wire coat hanger. A beat-up plaid couch sagged in front of the TV, stuffing leaking out of its many holes. There was a loudspeaker on the opposite wall above a small refrigerator filled with beers. All in all, the entire room belayed such slovenly confusion that it almost seemed to portray a slackers' lounge. Elena stood stock-still, speechless.

Rude walked past her to the adjoining closet, where the uniforms were kept. He took the hanger of woman's uniforms and handed it to her. "Here. Find your size, then tell Tseng. He'll get more for you."

"Who's…Tseng?" she asked, clutching the hanger of uniforms. 

Rude almost sighed aloud, but caught himself in time. It wasn't Elena's fault she was ignorant. "Leader of the Turks. He should bealong soon, after your first training session." He swallowed, throat suddenly parched and dry. "Until then, you have free time. Meet back here at fifteen hundred hours." As was Rude's style, he revealed only what was necessary and none of the details. Giving a somewhat awkward nod to Elena, he turned and started out the door. He was stopped, however, when she called him back, sounding hesitant and almost sheepish.

"Um…Rude?" Her eyes were downcast, and if she hadn't been holding onto the uniforms her hands would have been in her pockets. "What's…what's fifteen hundred hours?"

Rude only shook his head. "3 PM. Sharp."

She looked up, an embarrassed grin stealing across her face. It was only then Rude noticed how oddly pretty she was. "Thanks. Oh, and Rude," she added, just as he was heading back out the door. "Is it exciting, being a Turk? Real exciting?"

He just stared at her woodenly, not saying a word. Elena began to unconsciously fidget under the powerful gaze of those eyes she could feel, but not see behind his dark glasses. When he finally spoke, she jumped in alarm. 

"Yeah," he said at last. "Real exciting."

With that, he turned and left the room. 


	2. Training

Training

He drew on the black armor-backed glove with a small sigh, wincing a little as the rough material slid over a cut on one of the knuckles.

The glove was too tight for him, causing his hand to flex on its own. But it was tradition. Past training masters had used this very glove to teach, to instruct new Turks. The well-worn holes in it didn't matter. It was a special artifact, retaining almost sacred value.

Rude clenched his fist in the glove, felt the thick fingers grow taut. He cleared his mind of all conscious thought, concentrating at the task at hand, just like his old training master had taught him.

Taught him…with this very glove…

Rude shook his head, shook aside lingering doubts that threatened to test his resolve. What difference did it make that Elena was a woman? There had been women Turks before, just not in his lifetime. So what?

__

I've always wanted to be a Turk…

Dammit, why did she have to be so happy?

He checked his watch. Close to three PM.

It was time. 

Quickly he did what he'd done since childhood, what had gotten easier and easier to do: Hide his emotions. Sweep the turbulent storms of feelings raging inside of him under an imaginary rug, never to be seen again. Lock everything behind a stern and vacant mask of stone, and toss away the key. He had gotten quite good at it.

He left the small room that was his cabin, stepping into the main part of the Turks' staffroom. It was a nicer staffroom than the one lower employees got, he had to admit. The Turks certainly were important to Shinra.

Probably because there were so few of them.

Though he had never been a training master before, Rude wasn't worried. He had seen the job done often enough to know all about it.

Testing his resolution, and finding it firm, he glanced about for the rookie.

Elena stood in the center of the staffroom, beaming. She was wearing her new uniform and seemed immensely proud of it. To be honest, the ensemble did become her. The woman's version of a Turk uniform was only slightly dissimilar from the man's- flared pant legs, a more feminine jacket, and high-heeled shoes- but had a very different effect. If Elena wiped that grin off her face, she would look a true professional. 

"Hi, Rude," she greeted him, clasping her hands in front of her. "How do I look?" She threw her hands in the air and twirled around, just in case he might miss something.

The word "chic" came to mind, but Rude didn't mention it. Instead he cleared his throat.

"It's time for your training, Elena." He paused a moment for effect (and to think of how to word his next phrase). "Because you are a rookie and only know how the Turks operate from the outside, it is my job to break you into the inside job." He hesitated awkwardly. "…….." 

Reno was a lot better at this kind of thing than him. In fact, if the red-headed Turk hadn't been injured, Reno would be helping him out now. Another reason to curse AVALANCHE. Bad enough they had been causing one headache after another with all the destroyed and such, but now he also had to train the rookie by himself. It seemed to Rude he always got landed with the boring job. 

Elena was looking at him strangely. He should be saying something. Damn! He always got like this whenever he had to make a speech.

"……."

Maybe she thinks its some kind of test, Rude thought hopefully. Fat chance.

"…….."

"What's wrong, Rude?" she blurted out, looking nervous. "Did I do something? Are you angry?"

"….I'm not very good with speeches," he admitted, then closed his mouth. Of all the things to tell the new rookie!

Elena waved a hand airily. "Oh, that's okay. I don't like speeches anyway. They're boring."

Privately Rude thought so, too. "Very well. We'll begin." He snapped his fingers. Instantly two Shinra guards armed with machine guns stepped forward, weapons pointed at Elena.

She looked to Rude nervously. "Is this some kind of joke?" The faintest note of nervousness was discernible in her voice.

Rude stepped toward her, rubbing the knuckles under the armor-backed glove. No expression was visible on his face.

"….Rude?"

At that instant, the door slammed open. Rude froze. The gunmen froze. Elena whirled around.

Tseng was standing in the doorway, feet spread apart, hands behind his back. He always stood like that, like an army drill sergeant, but it seemed especially appropriate now. His long black hair was slicked back away from his scowling face, his gray eyes dark and foreboding.

Tseng was angry. It was evident not only on his face, but in his long, quick strides across the room to where Rude was standing.

"Rude."

Tseng didn't yell. Tseng never yelled. His softly spoken words somehow carried more weight than barked orders or angry reprimands. When he spoke in his whispering voice, men snapped to attention. It was unheard of for the leader of the Turks to raise his voice. 

"I sent word to the front desk that this Turk was _not_ to be trained in the traditional fashion."

"I received no such orders, sir." Rude spoke calmly, although inside he was positively frightened. Tseng only used that lethal growling tone if he was feeling murderous. 

Tseng glared at him a moment, then turned away. "You're dismissed!" he barked to the two gunmen, jerking a thumb at the door. After one look at his face, they hurried out. 

Rude stood sweating while the other man appeared to compose himself. Tseng straightened his tie, drew a breath, and attempted to smile at Elena. 

"You must be the rookie. I'm Tseng, your leader."

Elena was looking thoroughly confused and intimidated by this time. "My name…is Elena," she murmured, blushing beet-red and staring at the floor. 

"Are you all right?" he queried, shooting an accusing glance at Rude.

"F…Fine, thank you," she stammered.

"Good,' Tseng said brusquely. "Would you mind leaving me with Rude a minute? I need to discuss some important matters with him. 

"Certainly," she said quickly, rushing out the door. And then Rude was alone with Tseng. 

They stood staring at each other for several minutes. Rude was well used to Tseng's way of catching others unawares- Reno called him "The Ripper" because of his tendency to slash them wide open when off-guard- and waited him out. At last Tseng sighed, drummed his fingers on a countertop, and started in. 

"Rude, do you know what you almost did?"

"I almost told what was expected of me, sir," he responded steadily. He knew that type of reply would only infuriate his leader further, but it was the truth.

Tseng closed his eyes a moment, then reopened them. "Okay, Rude. Let's go over this together. Why did we recruit a new Turk?"

"Because Reno's injured and we're lacking people," he answered dutifully, thinking about all the things he'd rather do than hear this lecture. Sleep on a bed of razor-sharp nails…

"Good. And why else?"

Be crucified on a tree and then be struck by lightning…"Because last night we failed to prevent AVALANCHE from escaping when they invaded Headquarters last night, resulting in the loss of not only the Ancient, but the other specimen as well." 

"Right. Why else?"

Drape poison vipers all over his body while standing with one foot on a needle… "Because afterward Heidegger threatened to skin us alive if we ever slacked off again."

"Yes." Tseng sighed. "And that's why we can't train Elena."

Eat a… "What? Why?"

Tseng leaned forward. "Rude, it takes well over a year to properly train a Turk. We need a fill-in now. If you started training her, we wouldn't be able to use her until who knows how long. She may be a rookie, but maybe she can pick up enough not to embarrass us."

Rude doubted that, based on what he'd seen, but said nothing.

"I'm depending on you to watch her," Tseng said, looking the other man straight in the face. 

Rude averted his gaze. "Yes, sir."

"All right." Tseng leaned back, apparently satisfied. "Dismissed." 

The silent Turk left, thinking furiously. Damn Reno! Why'd he have to go and get injured? Of course, none of them had been expecting AVALANCHE to be very difficult to handle. Reno had learned how very wrong that notion was- the hard way.

But at least he didn't have to teach a silly little girl to be a Turk. 

Rude shook his head and shoved it to the back of his mind, as he often did. No sense worrying about it now. He had a better idea.

As soon as he left work that day, he'd go to the bar.

~

Sunlight streamed through the blinds on the window, casting a striped pattern across the rumpled mound of blankets on the bed. A red-haired man, tangled in the sheets, stirred slightly. It was past noon. 

Reno yawned widely and sat up. Immediately he was greeted by knives digging through his skull. He lay back down and pressed both hands against his temples, trying to keep his head from splitting apart. 

The headache subsided after a moment. As it did, Reno gradually grew aware of more pain; in his arms and legs and especially his shoulder, where a bullet from that bastard Barret had resided. In fact, now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure what hurt worse- the hangover or his injuries.

He moved a little and groaned. The hangover, definitely. 

After a few minutes of working up the strength, he managed to sit up again. With more groans and a few scattered swears, he was able to grab the edge of the dresser (making a few empty beer bottles sway precariously) and stand up. 

Water. He needed some goddamned water. His throat felt like he'd been drinking motor oil.

__

Maybe I have, he thought dryly, thinking of his flat wallet. He had been graciously granted a paid vacation, but had seen no hint of the money yet. And guess who'd had to cover the medical bills?

Damn them anyway, he decided. Why can't those tightwads give me my salary when I need it?

By now he'd reached the kitchen of his two-room apartment. He grabbed hold of the water tap and turned it on full blast, then ducked his head under the water. He emerged, dripping wet. There. That was a little better. Not much, but better. At least he could see straight now. 

He returned to his bedroom, stopping when he caught a glance of his reflection in the mirror. He looked like hell. Dark shadows under his eyes, one arm in a sling, a face no mother could ever love. His red hair was…absolutely frightening. He looked drawn and haggard. And tired.

Turning away from the face in the mirror, he spotted his jacket hanging on the door handle. He grabbed his wallet out of the front pocket and looked inside. 

Empty.

With an explosive curse, Reno flung the wallet across the room and swept the beer bottles off the dresser. They crashed to the floor, sending glittering splinters of glass everywhere.

Reno paused then, hesitated. Then he pulled open the top drawer of his dresser and slowly pulled out a small bag of gil. He had been saving this for emergencies. But now he needed a drink more than he needed anything else.

He grabbed his jacket from the door handle and slammed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.


	3. Meeting at the Bar

Meeting at the Bar

"I just don't see why you hired her." Tseng spoke calmly, but his steely eyes flashed with anger. "She's not Turk material. Look at her!" 

He gestured out the office window, where Elena could be sitting quietly in the waiting room, twiddling her thumbs. She seemed to shrink into the chair, looking small and extremely nervous. The heavy door that separated the waiting room from Heidegger's office muffled both men's voices, but she looked as though she knew they were discussing her.

"I don't know what all this fuss is about," Heidegger rumbled from behind his desk. He was a down-to-earth, typical businessman; kissing his superiors' feet, and a bastard to work for. He wasn't typical to look at, though- a thick black beard that covered his paunchy face, his grossly obese body in a fitted bottle-green suit. In short, he appeared ludicrous. Of course, none of that mattered when he was your boss. 

"She had the most credentials in the company, so I simply moved her up to Turk rank. He leaned forward, a vulgar smirk curling his fat lips. "Besides, I figured you and your boys needed a little 'leisure time'. Gya, ha ha!"

Not only that, but he had the most annoying laugh Tseng had ever heard.

"Mr. Heidegger," he said patiently, though he was beginning to despair of ever getting through to this stubborn tub of lard. "A good Turk calls for more than credentials. There are certain skills…certain attributes that are needed. A major in English doesn't make you good with a gun. This is a very different kind of job than she's used to, sir."

Heidegger leaned back, tipping the office chair precariously. "Tseng, you know I trust your judgment. But the fact is, she was only one to even meet the physical requirements to be a Turk. She's damn strong, for a girl."

"There are more than just physical requirements!" Tseng was losing patience. "To be a Turk, you have to be strong in mind. You have to be…tough, inside and out."

"Let me make this perfectly clear for you, Turk." Heidegger folded both of his hands on the desk, looking Tseng in the eye. "I'm a businessman. It's my job to make sure you have what you need. It's your job to give me results. You needed a Turk. I provided you with one. Now, all you have to do is make it work." 

"And if I don't?" He was pretty sure he knew the answer already.

Heidegger smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "You're finished. Not only with Shinra, but elsewhere, too. We can't have pieces of scum like you drifting around loose, can we?"

He pictured ramming Heidegger's coffee cup into his face. "I understand, sir."

Heidegger seemed to relax. "Good. Now-"

Tseng went on. "I just don't think it will work. Sir, it's my job to keep the Turks' image. Without proper training, there's a large chance Elena could ruin that image."

"Then train her!" Heidegger snapped.

"It would take well over a year before we could use her, sir! And by then Reno would be back. We wouldn't even need her."

The vicious smile was back. "Perhaps you should voice these concerns to her yourself." And before Tseng could stop him, Heidegger was pressing the button on the intercom, speaking into it.

"We're ready, Elena."

She jumped visibly at the loud voice emitting from the speaker just above her head. Heidegger laughed, not bothering to release the button. Elena, blushing furiously, stood resolutely and marched over to the door. Seeing his boss wasn't about to be bothered with getting to his feet, Tseng let her in. 

"Tseng and I were just discussing the future of your new job," Heidegger said languidly.

The leader of the Turks cursed inwardly as Elena's large brown eyes turned on him. _That crafty son of a bitch! He knows I have no choice now!_ he thought angrily, then turned his attention back to the girl.

"I know you were talking about me," she said accusingly, though her voice trembled. Tseng shot a glance at Heidegger. The bearded man shrugged, as though to say, "Go along with it." Elena saw the glance and her voice grew stronger. 

"You don't think I can be a Turk." She straightened the uniform she wore, arching her head proudly. "I can do it. I'll show you, sir. You'll be glad you hired me."

__

It wasn't me that hired her. Tseng looked again at his superior. How can I get out of this? 

Heidegger was looking smug, knowing Tseng couldn't do a thing. The latter sighed in defeat, while inwardly making a decision. 

"All right, Elena. We'll wait and see what you can do."

~

The bar was more crowded than Rude had expected when he walked in. Usually this crowd didn't arrive until later. He guessed it was more of a social period than anything else- many wanted to hear more about the invasion of the Shinra building.

Still, crowded as it was, the throng parted as he walked by. No one, not even by accident, wanted to touch a Turk. Maybe there were some advantages to his job.

He made his way to the counter and ordered a double shot of whiskey. Even as he ordered, he caught sight of a man sitting on the barstool beside him, one arm in a sling, calmly sipping a drink.

"Hey, Reno," Rude said to him. "Did the doctor give you a prescription? Or did you just decide alcohol would help you recover?"

"Prescription," was the sarcastic Turk's answer. "Two hours at the bar each day. Need lots of fluids." He took a gulp of his drink. "I knew you were here without turning around. Did you ever notice how quiet it gets whenever one of us comes into this place?"

Rude didn't bother answering. "You doing okay?" He expected an unpleasant retort, and, sure enough, he got one.

"Better than you," Reno snapped, then changed the subject abruptly. "Who's the poor fool who's taking my place?" He took another swig, downing the strong liquor quickly and easily. 

"We've already been over this, Reno-"

"You sound like my grandmother."

"-She's not 'taking your place', she's-"

Reno choked on his drink. "She?!"

Rude waited patiently as his friend began raging.

"They're replacing me with a goddamned woman?! What the hell is this, some kind of-" A sudden thought struck him. "That is a low joke, Rude. Very low." Reno returned to his natural color as he came to the conclusion that his partner was simply joking.

"I'm not kidding, Reno. My point is, as Tseng already explained to me-"

Reno snorted in disgust. "The Ripper giving you trouble again? That guy's so full of shit you'd think it'd be comin' outta his ears." He was quiet a moment, then said, "How is she?"

"At what? Looks, or professionalism?" 

"Both."

"Well, she's pretty, I guess, if you like the cute, upturned nose kinda deal. As for that other thing…" He trailed off. 

Reno smirked. "Lemme guess. Ditzy blond." 

"No, uh…" Frantically Rude tried to think of another explanation, but none came to mind. "No…_very_ ditzy blond."

"Thought as much." Reno leaned back on his stool and raised his glass. "Here's to you, Tseng. Replace me with a chick. Nice one."

After making the toast, he quickly drained the drink, leaning forward again. The stool legs landed on the floor with a thump. "You started her training yet?"

"No."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Rude shrugged. "Tseng said not to. Something about her being useless until we've broken her in."

"Yeah, guess that makes sense," Reno said thoughtfully, signaling for another drink. "Of course, she'll make us look like complete idiots." 

Rude realized he hadn't touched his whiskey. He downed it speedily, willing himself to relax. He was feeling way too tense.

Reno was quiet again, looking down at his drink. Rude wondered what he was thinking about, but didn't ask, deciding the Turk would come out with it in his own time.

After a while, he did. "Hey, Rude," he said, not looking up. "Do you remember our training?"

Rude was silent for so long that Reno looked up to see if his friend had heard him, but couldn't tell. Rude's face was expressionless, as usual, behind his sunglasses- he even wore them in the dark, dank interior of the bar.

"No." He spoke firmly, loudly- too loudly, by the looks of some people sitting nearby. Rude didn't seem to notice. "No, I don't remember a thing." Without another word, he turned and strode out of the bar. Reno watched him go before turning back to his booze. 

"Yeah, you do, man," he murmured. "You do."

He stared down at his glass, but he wasn't seeing it. He was seeing something else, something that had happened a long time ago…


	4. Reno

Reno

"Okay." Reno folded his arms and assumed a bored expression. "What do you want?"

Wat gave him one of his sneering grins. He was a head shorter than Reno, but probably at least thirty pounds heavier. He had curly blond hair that came to just below his ears and cool blue eyes that perfectly matched his dark blue business suit. Reno had met him just minutes ago, when the complete stranger had asked him to "come with him". If it had been an order, Reno would have flatly refused. But, intrigued by curiosity, he'd followed Wat into the Shinra building, deciding he could always get away if he needed to.

"I've been assigned to look for you and bring you here." Wat walked around Reno and closed the door, leaving the two of them completely alone in the small office. "And to have a little chat with you."

"Why?" Reno shifted impatiently. Curiosity had evaporated, replaced by annoyance.

Wat shrugged slyly. "Shinra has heard something about you. In fact, so have I." He paused momentarily, hearing the red-head snort, then went on. "According to rumor, you killed your own father." 

Reno's face was expressionless, but inwardly he felt like cursing. Not now! This was the last thing he needed. He looked at Wat, appearing bored. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Wat eyed him a moment, then opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a stack of papers. "I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this," he remarked, shuffling the papers. "But I guess, since you asked…" He handed the papers to Reno. The latter found it to be a report of some kind as he skimmed it and Wat recited it from memory. 

"You were an only child born 22 years ago. You and your parents lived in a nice home in Sector 1. Your father was a heavy drinker and often, we understand, physically abused you and your mother." Wat looked at Reno to see his reaction, but the younger man had none to give. 

"Go on," Reno said shortly, leafing through the report of his life. "What's next?"

Wat cleared his throat. "As the years went on, your father's drinking problem grew worse, and your mother could no longer depend on him for money. She worked full-time, leaving you alone in your abusive father's care. It became an endless spiral- your mother had to make more money to support your father's drinking, which in turn called for higher expenses. You 'helped out' as you got older through thievery and by mugging those weaker than yourself. You grew strong, confident. Then came that day."

This time there was a reaction, slight as it was. A half-smile flickered on Reno's face, then it disappeared. He remembered that day. 

"That day," Wat continued, "when your father was exceptionally drunk, your mother mustered up her courage and stood up to him. He flew into a rage, to the point where he nearly killed her."

"Don't sugar-coat it," Reno snapped. The smile was gone now. His voice shook with cold fury. "The bastard dragged her over to the stove and opened the door. It took me a second to realize what he was doing. It took her actual screams of pain to make me react."

Wat gave him a sideways glance. "I see you've gotten over your amnesia. What happened next?"

"You already know!" The other growled, throwing down the report. "It's all in there. I grabbed him and pulled him back. Then I had to help Mom, who was screaming…crying…"

"And while you were distracted, you failed to notice the knife in your father's hand?"

Reno started to shake his head, then nodded. "I saw it in time to dodge. He wasn't sober, after all. I was quick enough to grab it out of his hand.'"

"And then…?"

Reno shrugged. "I don't remember very clearly. Next thing I know, I'm standing over him with the knife against his throat. And…" He stopped a minute to regain control over his anger. "And I hesitated. Then I stepped away. I wanted him gone, but I didn't want to kill him. I told him as much."

__

Get out of here. Don't ever come back. If you do…I'll kill you.

"And then things were fine for a while," Wat resumed. "Until the fire. How did that start?"

"You know!" Reno repeated furiously. "He set fire to the house. I wasn't there. But Mom was. By the time I got back…" He stopped, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. 

"Your mother was dead," Wat cut in smoothly. "And your home was destroyed." He didn't say anything for a moment, then added, "A few days later the body of your late father was discovered."

Reno rounded on him. "What would you have done?!" he snarled. "Would you have let that son of a bitch get away with it? I only gave him what he deserved!" A sudden thought occurred to him. "Besides," he said, a little more calmly, but with just as much anger in his voice. "If Shinra knew about this whole thing, why didn't you do something about it? Why'd you just stand by and _watch_?" He spat the last word like a curse. 

"We wanted," Wat said slowly and deliberately, "to see how you would react. And, after the reaction you gave us, you can see why Shinra wanted you."

Reno sighed, resigned. "Yeah." He didn't care what they did to him now. What did it matter anyway? His life couldn't possibly get any worse. 

"Then let's go," Wat ordered, walking to the door. "We're wasting time."

"And where am I going?" Reno asked, following.

Wat turned back a little, looking surprised he'd had to ask. "Your new home, of course. Death Row." 

~

The helicopter thudded to a stop as it landed in front of a large building. Wat turned in his seat to give Reno a slightly disturbing smile. "We're here."

Reno gave a nod, inwardly calculating his chances. As they'd left the Shinra building, he'd had absolutely no possibility of escape as Wat grabbed his elbow in a steely grip and led him to the waiting chopper. Even then, he'd considered trying to break free, but he'd caught a glimpse of something metallic gleaming in the helicopter pilot's belt: a gun.

And so, he'd had to endure long hours of tense, silent flight- Wat had said nothing more, and Reno certainly didn't volunteer any information. However, he'd been careful not to fall asleep during the flight. If a chance to get away did occur, he didn't want to miss it.

"Well, come on, Reno." Wat sounded amused. "Do you need some help?" He was already out of the chopper, holding the door open for Reno.

Having no other options, Reno unbuckled the seatbelt Wat had insisted he wear and hopped out, landing on the concrete surface of the helipad.

Wat gave a dismissive wave to the pilot, indicating he could leave. Reno watched the chopper's blades start to spin, faster and faster, until it lifted in the air.

__

Well, guess I won't be escaping that way, he thought with a small sigh. _I'm screwed._

His hopes only sank lower as he glanced around the compound. A high wire fence surrounded the entire perimeter, which consisted of about a square acre of land. Beyond the fence were trees, as far as the eye could see. The landscape made Reno suspect they were somewhere in the mountains. That was about all he could figure out.

__

Definitely screwed, he corrected himself. 

"Glad you like the place," Wat remarked, coming up beside him. "You'll be here for a while." He turned around, starting toward the sole building in the area- a tall, cement one with windows on the upper levels only. "Come on."

Reno obeyed, his hopes rising again. Wat had said "a while". Apparently they weren't going to execute him right away. 

Wat led him though the front door, which seemed to be made of heavy steel. In fact, Reno was surprised the other man could open it so easily; when the door slammed shut behind them, it made such a loud clang it reverberated through Reno's eardrums. Wat was stronger than he looked.

He trailed his captor closely as they climbed several flights of stairs, all the while taking careful note of their surroundings. The entire building seemed to be made of cold, hard metal- even the stairs were made of some kind of alloy, making their footsteps sound much too loud. The building design was simple, too; just the ground level and one endless staircase leading up to another floor. There were a few closed doors he was curious about, but Wat led him past them, moving on upward.

At last they reached the final platform. Here, there was only a single door. Wat opened it, and, with a mockingly polite gesture, signaled Reno to go in first.

The room was totally different from what Reno had expected. Yes, there were the same metal walls and steel grating, the same cold florescent lights, but this room was slightly more furnished than the others, although it still held a hard, rigid look. There was a desk in the center, but this was bare except for a telephone and a fax machine. A punching bag hung in one corner, swinging irregularly as someone hit it.

"Here he is, Kaiser," Wat said, stepping into the room. "Our newest addition."

The man, Kaiser, stepped away from the punching bag and looked him over. He was a broad-shouldered, muscular man with a definite "military" air about him. He stood up straight, held his head high and stared Reno in the eye. _He looks like an army kind of guy, too,_ Reno thought_. Square jaw, neat hair, penetrating eyes._ He repressed a shudder. _This is going to be total hell. _

"Looks like a deadbeat from the slums," was Kaiser's analysis, curling his lip. "He won't survive the first day."

"Isn't that kinda the point when you execute somebody?" Reno volunteered dryly. The response he received was not the one he expected.

Wat burst out laughing as he pieced Reno's sentence together, while Kaiser simply looked incredulous, then angry. 

"You didn't even tell him?!" he yelled, whirling on Wat. The latter tried to control his laughter, as he realized Kaiser failed to see any humor in the situation. 

"I did!" Wat said at last, glancing at the now extremely confused Reno. "I made it very clear."

"Apparently not clear enough," Kaiser growled. He turned back to Reno. "You're here because we need more people, and somehow your name was elected. "

"For what?" Now that he'd figured out he wasn't going to die, at least not yet, Reno was a good deal more impatient for information. 

It was Wat, who had completely regained his composure, who answered. "To be a Turk, of course." He said it as though it was completely obvious. "Shinra's Department of Administrative Research." 

For perhaps the first time in his life, Reno was struck speechless. He simply stared dumbly, half of his mind wondering if he'd heard right. The other half was busy running non-stop, gathering all he knew about Shinra's Department of Administrative Research. 

The Turks were an exclusive, secretive organization in Shinra; not much was known about them except this: You didn't want to piss one off. Everyone feared the men in blue suits, to the point where they were given free drinks at bars, free lodging at inns. Other than the actual company of Shinra, Inc. itself, the Turks probably held more power than anything else in Midgar. And now he could be on the receiving end of that power.

"Sounds better than an execution," he said trying to sound casual. "I think maybe I'll stick around." 

Wat gave an odd sort of half-smile. "I wouldn't say that. They don't call this place Death Row for nothing." He didn't give Reno time to muse over the last remark. "Well, ready to begin?"

Before Reno could answer, however, Kaiser's hand shot out and jabbed him in the throat, just hard enough to make him lose consciousness. Reno fell heavily onto the steel grating of the floor.

"I thought we agreed to use chloroform," Wat remarked, looking down at the limp form. 

Kaiser shrugged and slung Reno over his shoulder. "My way's better. Let's go." He opened the door and started down the stairs. "Time for the rookie's first test."


	5. The Nightstick

The Nightstick

The soft murmur of voices woke him. 

"He's been out a long time." The voice was male, a deep baritone that penetrated the heavy fog in Reno's mind quite easily. Not wanting to move, he squeezed his eyelids shut tighter and willed himself back to the blissful state of oblivion. 

"Should we wake him?" This voice was female, piercing, with a sharp clarity that threatened to drag him back from the brink of unconsciousness. 

"How?" The man sounded annoyed. "You got something to throw at him? Maybe that'll do the trick."

"You got a better idea, Rude?" The girl spat, her already shrill voice rising in pitch. "You think-"

Reno let out a soft moan as his eyelids fluttered. The voices ceased abruptly, but he was already nearly awake. He wondered why one of his arms felt like it was filled with lead.

The man called Rude let out an exasperated breath. "There. Your bitching did the trick."

The woman started to make a heated reply, but another man interrupted her. 

"Quiet. Both of you."

The other two fell silent, even though the man had spoken hardly above a whisper. The part of Reno's mind that was actually functioning took note of this.

But the rest of his mind, too, was rapidly regaining a sense of reality. As his eyes cracked open, he tried to move his lead-filled arm and discovered it lying underneath him. When he moved it, pins and needles spread from his fingertips to his elbow. 

Coherent thoughts returned, and with them a growing sense of anxiety. Ignoring the numbness in his arm, Reno placed it on the floor for balance and sat up. He blinked as he looked around, trying to make stock of his surroundings. 

To his back was a plain gray cinderblock wall. On both sides and in front of him were smooth metal bars running from floor to ceiling. The bars were maybe a hand width apart, enough to reach a hand in between, but not nearly enough to slip through, even for a man as thin as Reno. 

He swiveled his head back. A small chamber pot occupied one corner of the tiny space. A small, hard sleeping mat was to his left. 

Reno was trying to make sense of this when something else caught his gaze- a pair of iron manacles hanging from the wall, close to the ceiling. 

Then it hit him. He was in a cell. 

Reno gave a rather unmanly gasp and shot to his feet, then immediately winced and put a hand to his bruised throat. He couldn't really remember how he'd hurt it, but decided to blame Wat and Kaiser. They had to be behind this. 

As his vision cleared, he realized his cell wasn't the only one in the cavernous room. Five more prison-like cells lined the wall across from his, and there were more to each side. As he put one hand on a bar and stared in numb disbelief, that little part in the back of his mind that was taking note of everything wondered why such an enormous room (the ceiling had to be forty or fifty feet high!) had only ten or so cells. 

"Hey, man. You okay?"

A little startled, Reno turned to his right, facing the man who had to be Rude.

Until then, Reno had thought himself pretty tall, and his natural gangling frame "lean muscle". That was before he set eyes on Rude.

The man was _big._ He looked like he could bend the iron bars in the cell without breaking a sweat. There wasn't a wasted ounce on him, either. His entire body was muscle and sinew, without a trace of extra fat.

As if in contrast, Rude's head was completely bald. For some odd reason, it only served to make him look even more foreboding. Next to him, Reno felt like a shrimp. 

Then the shrimp realized he hadn't answered Goliath's question. 

"Other than waking bruised and sore in a frickin' prison cell, I'm perfectly fine!" he snapped. Too late, he thought about how unwise it might be to piss off a man of Rude's size. 

__

Aw, hell. There are a couple inches worth of thick metal bars between us. What's he gonna do?

His apprehension was misplaced, however, as Rude merely gave a small shrug and turned away. Pleased with the result, Reno took the opportunity to get a better look around.

On the other side of the hall in front of his cell was another row. In the one directly across from his was the woman. She leaned against the left wall of her cell, turning her head so she could look at him. She had straight brown hair cut to the length of her jaw and golden brown eyes. A light smattering of freckles across her nose made her look younger than she really was, which Reno assumed was perhaps 25 or 26; a little older than himself. He noticed she was wearing a dark blue suit that looked oddly familiar. 

He turned to look back at Rude. Exact same outfits. 

Before he could comment on this, however, the woman spoke.

"You done gawking at everything?"

Reno scowled. "That depends. Is someone gonna explain?" 

She sighed. "You're a Turk."

__

As if that explains anything. "Meaning?"

"Meaning you rot in here with the rest of us until your training's complete," she snapped. 

Reno was bewildered. "But why lock us up"

The woman looked at him as though he was demented. "So we can't escape. Why else?"

Being a Turk suddenly didn't sound at all good. He wasn't sure he wanted to know but asked anyway: "What happens during training?"

The woman opened her mouth, but she was interrupted. 

"You'll find out soon enough." It was the other man who spoke, the one who had told the others to be quiet earlier. His cell was next to the woman's and across from Rude's. Reno could barely hear him. "Sooner then you may want to."

He too, wore a blue suit. The man was standing in shadow, with his head bowed so that Reno couldn't see him clearly. 

Annoyed by the melodramatic response, Reno shot back, "I think I'd rather find out than be locked up with stark raving lunatics. If you're gonna explain, explain in English. Plain and simple."

The woman clapped her hands, calling for attention. "Okay! Pop quiz!" Her voice was heavy with sarcasm as she looked at Rude. "You first, Rude. Why are we here?" 

Rude said nothing. The woman answered her own question.

"Because we're Turks. Why are we stuck in training cells?" Again she didn't wait for a response. "Because we're Turks. Why do we wear uniforms?" She put a hand to her head. "Oh, I feel an answer coming on! I know! It's because we're Turks!"

Reno found himself liking her spunk. "You're a bitch." 

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, it's Lynn."

"Bitch is closer to the mark, though," Rude said, giving Reno a sidelong glance. "Life wasn't a complete hell before Lynn came here."

"Yeah, I know," she retorted. "It's gotta be torture to look at someone as attractive as me day after day and knowing you can't have me-"

Rude snorted. "You are just too amazing to get over yourself, aren't you?"

Glad not to be the center of attention any more, Reno stepped further back into the cell and leaned against the cool cement wall. It was hotter than hell down here. Wherever "here" was. He wiped his sleeve across his brow. 

As he did so he noticed something. For the first time since awakening he glanced down at himself. He was wearing expensive-looking black shoes, a dark blue business suit over a white shirt and a black tie.

"Where the hell are my clothes?!" he shouted, startling everybody. Lynn and Rude stopped arguing abruptly. 

"Who knows?" Lynn shrugged. "They don't tell us much."

Cursing in rage, Reno loosened his collar and removed the strangling tie. "What time is it?" 

Rude looked at him warningly. "I wouldn't do that, Reno. They get upset if your uniform isn't immaculate."

"Screw them!" he snarled. "What time is it?"

"Probably around 3:30 AM," Lynn guessed. "Tseng just got back from training a while ago, and his ends at 3:00."

"They keep you up at all hours, then?" Reno yanked the collar looser; it still felt too warm.

Lynn snorted. "That's one way to put it."

Reno sighed and rubbed his temples. He suddenly had a very painful headache. "How long am I stuck here?" he demanded.

Lynn gave another careless shrug. "Who knows? It could be ten days, or ten years. You can never tell with these guys."

Reno slammed the cinderblock wall in disbelief. "Are you saying-"

"Shut up!" Tseng said tersely. 

Something about the guy just made you want to obey. Reno closed his mouth just as slow footsteps descended what sounded like cement stairs. He found himself stiffening defiantly as Wat sauntered up to the outside of his cell, grinning. His teeth were uneven.

"Ah, Reno," he greeted. "Glad to see you're back with us. Not too banged up, are you? That's all right, we'll remedy that soon enough."

He stepped back and appraised the silent Reno for a moment, frowning. "Where's your tie? And why's your collar unbuttoned?"

Reno gave him a cold stare. "I don't like this uniform. I don't like being locked up. Give me my clothes and let me the hell out of this dank pit."

Wat looked at him a moment, as though sizing him up. He finally rolled his eyes to the ceiling, blowing air out of the side of his mouth.

"Have it your way, Reno." He took a ring of keys out of his front pocket and unlocked the cell door. "I try to make things easy for you, but you just don't cooperate. Now we have to do things the hard way."

He pulled open the cell door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. Reno stood with his arms folded, watching Wat warily. Who did this guy think he was?

Wat pulled open his jacket, exposing a black rod hanging at his belt. He unstrapped the rod and held it in his hands, idly stroking the smooth black finish. "Do you know what this is, Rookie?"

Reno shrugged offhandedly. "I don't know. A substitute for a dick?" Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Rude put a hand over his face.

Wat's expression didn't change, but his mouth twitched just the slightest bit. "No. I like to call it the Nightstick, but it's actually more. Much more."

Reno sneered. "Why would I care what you call your little toy?"

The next thing he knew, searing pain blossomed in his shoulder, spreading outward until it brought him to his knees. Reno had felt pain before, but nothing like this. It was agony. Death without dying.

When at last it ended, Reno found himself facedown on the floor, his cheek resting on cold cement. His breath came in panting gasps. He was dimly aware of Wat looking down at him, but didn't really care.

"Some toy, isn't it?" Wat sounded a million miles away. Reno struggled to concentrate on his voice; it felt like a lifeline back to reality. "And that was only low power." His tone switched from jovial to hard. "If I was you I'd button that collar, Reno." When he didn't move fast enough to satisfy Wat, the nightstick rapped him on the head. This time, Reno actually felt the electric currant run through his body, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. When Wat gave him a moment's respite he buttoned his collar quickly with stiff fingers.

Wat dropped the tie on top of him. "This, too."

Reno lost control. It was like an instinctive reaction. So suddenly Wat couldn't anticipate it, he'd grabbed the older man's leg and yanked him down. The crack of Wat's head as it struck the cement was like a gunshot, and with it Reno had his hands around the other man's throat. He bent over Wat, smiling grimly.

"Look what I've got here," he said softly. "A full-grown cocky Turkey. Still want to train me?"

Wat's cold blue eyes didn't move from Reno's, but his hand slowly brought up the nightstick. Reno kicked it away and shifted position so his hands had a better grip.

"You use that thing again," he warned, " we're going to find out what happens when I twist your head one way and your body the other." He leaned closer. "You wanna find out? I'm afraid I already know, but I'd love to surprise you. Shall we try?"

"Reno," Wat said in an even tone, "lack of discipline gets you killed. I'm going to have to fix your rebellious side."

"Yeah? Looks like you'll have to 'fix me' with your head bend sideways. I think the look'll suit you." 

Wat spun suddenly, slamming his shoulder into Reno's side. Reno fell back, off balanced, but jumped up immediately to block Wat's swing. What he didn't anticipate was Wat's kick. A well-timed movement with his foot swept Reno's legs out from under him. Before he could recover, Wat was on him, pressing the nightstick to the back of his neck.

Reno had thought crying out was impossible against the pain. He had been wrong.

"Like that, doncha?" Wat's breath was coming in sharp gasps. He pressed the nightstick down harder. "I'll have you blubbering like a baby before I'm done with you."

Though the agony Reno was only able to get out one thing: "Screw…you…"

Wat smiled and pushed Reno out from under the rod. Reno slammed against the wall, but didn't care, since he was away from the pain. He blinked away sweat and tears as Wat approached. He tried to sit up, but found Wat's heavy boot on his back prevented it. 

Wat slowly, casually, wiped his hand across the back of his head. He looked at his fingers, then showed them to Reno, who felt a moment's pride- they were darkened with blood.

"You'll pay for that, too," he informed Reno.

Reno looked up at him with hatred. "What, too much of a coward to fight me without your magic stick?"

Wat smiled again, removed his foot from Reno's back, allowing the younger man to get up. Keeping his eyes on his captor, Reno slowly climbed to his feet, wavering a bit. Wat just stood there, watching him, while Reno waited with dull apprehension.

Without warning, Wat's fist shot out and hit Reno in the face. Reno staggered, felt the nightstick smash down on his skull. He crashed to the floor, reeling.

"Don't get me wrong, Reno." Wat sounded amused. "Every minute I'm with you, we're fighting in some way. And I win every time."

The last thing Reno saw were Wat's glossy black shoes walking away.

~

__

Brrriiinnngg!

A jolting alarm brought Reno back to consciousness. He let out a weary groan as the aching pain flooded his body. He thought he might throw up. 

He heard the sound of his door being opened, but kept his eyes shut. Maybe if they thought he was asleep they'd leave him alone.

Wat smacked him on the side of the head. "Rise and shine, Sleepy!"

Reno groaned again but didn't move. Nothing could make him move, he decided.

"Do you want me to wake you with the nightstick? I'm sure it'll be considerably painful."

Nothing, except that blasted cattle prod. Reno sat up quickly. Wat grinned. 

"You're learning. That's good. Come with me." He turned and walked out of the cell. As Reno followed he was surprised to see Rude and Lynn out of their cells, too. They were waiting expectantly for Wat to lead the way…to where? Reno had no idea.

He fell into step beside Rude and Lynn as Wat started up the stone steps. "What's this all about?"

"We're about to start our usual day," Lynn said, rather tonelessly. Reno thought her attitude pretty dull compared to last night, and wondered if Wat's presence had anything to do with it. Well, if they were expecting him to fall in line and let them smack him around, they were mistaken. 

"Where's that other guy?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You know, that guy in the cell next to yours?"

"Oh…Tseng? I think he's with Kaiser. He has a longer day than us. Harder, too." She gave him a sidelong glance as they walked down a plain hallway, illuminated by swinging white lights. "So…how'd you like your first taste of training?"

Reno scowled. "If it's the last thing I do, I swear I'm gonna murder that guy."

Lynn snorted. "You didn't sound so tough at the end of his nightstick last night."

"Lynn!" Rude growled. "You've been in that position before. You know what it's like!"

Lynn said nothing, but her countenance softened.

They came to a halt in front of a swinging door. Wat turned to them, a leer on his face. "I'm giving you ten minutes today, because you've got a new guy to take care of." He winked. "But I'll make it up to you later. Especially you, Lynn. I'm just feeling indulgent today." 

Lynn pressed her lips together so tightly they turned white, but she didn't say anything. Wat cupped a hand to her face in an affectionate gesture, then turned and left.

Rude took her arm and pulled her through the door. "Don't say anything, Lynn."

She slammed her fist into the sheetrock wall, leaving a gaping hole. "I hate him!" she snarled, hitting the wall again. "Goddammit, I hate him!" 

Reno didn't want to ask what Wat liked to do to Lynn, but he had an idea. In a strained effort to change the subject, he asked, "What now?" 

They were in a dingy bathroom with one stall and a water basin in the far corner. A small mirror hung on one whitewashed wall. The entire room was cramped and rather claustrophobic.

Rude shrugged. "This is where we wash up."

"In here?"

Lynn shoved past him to splash water on her face. "Yes, in here. Face it, Rookie. You're not going to be properly clean for a while."

As he rinsed his face in the freezing water, Reno glanced into the mirror on the wall. He looked terrible. His face was unshaven and pained. And the tie looked all wrong. 

Scowling, he brought his hands to the knot and loosened it, finally removing the tie and tucking it in his back pocket. Lynn's earlier comment still stung a little.

Rude shook his head when Reno turned away from the mirror, but didn't say anything. Lynn did. 

"Dammit, you moron!" she snarled. "What are you trying to prove? You know Wat'll only laugh and beat you senseless."

Reno ripped open the blue jacket, exposing the white work shirt. "Let him beat me senseless." He hiked up the jacket and untucked the shirt, letting it hang out over his blue pants. "He can't make me do what he wants."

"Oh yes, he can," she muttered. 

"Our ten minutes are up," Rude reminded them. Lynn glared at him, as though Reno's defiance was somehow his fault, sniffed, and pushed open the door, leading the way out. 

Rude turned to Reno. "I know how it feels. It's your decision, but you don't know the half of what they'll do to you."

Reno ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "But why? They drag us all the way out here, set up this whole system, go through all that trouble…for what? The privilege of smacking us around?"

Rude shrugged, leaning against the whitewashed wall as he folded his arms. "They want us to feel pain, get to know it. So we can give it better."

"That's what a Turk's job is?" Reno was skeptical. "Giving others pain?"

Rude gave him a dark look. "From my experience, yes."

Reno threw up his hands. "Why?"

Rude ran a thumb along his stubbled jaw line. "The Company."

"You mean Shinra?" Rude appeared to have a habit of making obscure answers.

"Yeah. Why do you think it's so powerful?" 

Reno suddenly had a vivid flashback of a gang he'd tried to join as a kid. It'd been one of the real bad-ass ones that "ran the streets". To get in, you had to kill somebody's pet and put it somewhere where they would see it. Reno had killed old Mrs. Swaney's cat, Snowball, by slitting its little white throat; then draped it across the windshield of her beat-up old Jeep. Mrs. Swaney suffered a severe heart attack and had to be rushed to the hospital. She'd died by the following spring.

Needless to say, he'd been accepted. 

Reno stared at Rude wordlessly. He could still remember the snow-white fur, matted with blood. He still had a scar on his wrist where the angry animal had scratched him.

"I really don't want to be a Turk," he whispered. 

Rude absently traced the hole Lynn had left in the wall. "None of us do."

Reno watched his hand move. "Tell me what Wat does to her." 

Rude sighed. "What do you think he does to her? Dirty bastard rapes her, any time he feels like it. Not in front of us, lucky for him," he added, seeing Reno's questioning look. "No, he just gets in one of those moods, takes her for a little 'private training', and when she gets back…she's a mess. You don't want to know the things he does with that nightstick of his."

Reno decided he was right. He leaned forward. "When do we get out of here?"

Rude shook his head. "No idea."

Reno didn't like that answer one bit.

The door slammed open, nearly hitting Rude in the face. "You're three minutes late!" Wat yelled. His cold glare took in Reno's casual attire, but he didn't say anything. When he spoke again, however, his voice was like ice.

"Training Center. Now."


	6. Becoming a Turk

Becoming a Turk

Training with Kaiser was something else entirely.

When Reno and Rude had stepped into the cavernous room that was the training center, the tall, broad-shouldered man had told Rude to "get started", leaving him alone with Reno.

Wat was nowhere in sight. Reno presumed he had to be with Tseng, because he didn't see him either. Inwardly he sighed in relief. Anything to be away from his little toy.

Kaiser didn't look as dangerous as Wat. He didn't have a nightstick, or a weapon of any kind, for that matter, with the exception of a black, armor-backed glove on one hand. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. 

Kaiser was like Tseng in one respect- when he spoke, you obeyed. It was that simple. However, Reno played dumb when Kaiser coolly informed him that his uniform was all wrong.

It was then Reno discovered why Kaiser didn't possess a nightstick. He didn't need one.

The man was strong and quick with his fists. The one time Reno thought he saw a chance to strike back at him, Kaiser easily dodged and dealt a crushing blow to his ribs. Reno heard a bone snap as he fell backwards onto the hard floor.

Kaiser looked at him in contempt. "Make sure you're dressed appropriately from here, or you'll get worse. Understand?"

Reno couldn't speak; even breathing was torture. He could feel the broken rib pressing against one lung each time he inhaled. Kaiser kicked him hard. "Understand?" 

Reno nodded meekly, still struggling to breathe. 

Kaiser made an impatient gesture. "Get up."

He wasn't sure if that would be the smartest thing to do. "Shouldn't-"

Kaiser growled and leaned close to him. "Listen up. You're a Turk now. There will be no questioning your superiors. There will be no questioning _orders_. You will learn to deal with whatever happens to you, or you will die. Get up!" 

Reno climbed to his feet with effort, waiting to see what Kaiser would do next.

The rest of his training, however, wasn't quite as bad. He was given a gun and practiced shooting, which he found much easier than hand-to-hand combat, as he discovered afterwards. Kaiser made him look and feel like a weak fool when it came down to strength. Even Lynn was far better than he was, and Rude seemed like a flat-out expert.

After a while, they were allowed a five-minute break in the washroom to clean up. Reno ducked his entire sweating head under the water faucet. When he emerged, and Lynn was having her turn, Rude took him aside.

"How are you doing?"

The broken rib wasn't feeling any better. "You got any healing materia?"

Rude shook his head. "We're not allowed to use those things. Makes us weaker."

Reno said a few choice words. "That's it! I'm going to get the hell out of here."

Rude gave him a look. "Listen. Don't get cocky. Don't go thinking you're smarter than them."

Reno looked at him in disgust. "If I found a way to escape, would you turn me in? Or come with me?"

Rude laughed quietly. "Don't misunderstand me. I'd kill to get out of here." He shrugged. "But the thing is, they make you kill anyway. Just to stay alive."

Reno made a frustrated gesture. "This is worth living for?"

Rude gave another of his infamous shrugs. "It's not so bad, once you get used to it." He turned away, averting his eyes. "It's not like any of us have anywhere to go." 

Reno realized he was right. Wat and Kaiser wouldn't pick somebody with a home, a family. Someone like that would be too hard to make a Turk. Someone like that would cling too tenaciously to his identity, to life.

He was still incredulous. "Are you telling me we should just give ourselves over to the inevitable?"

Rude wiped a hand over his face. "What's the point? We're not getting out of here anytime soon, anyway." He turned back. "C'mon, they're waiting."

__

Let them wait, Reno wanted to say, but he didn't. He wasn't getting anywhere with Rude.

Wat was there when they returned, looking smug. He winked lasciviously Lynn when she walked by, but she stubbornly ignored him. Grinning, no doubt at the thought of what he had in store for her, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Get lost, Rude. I want to have some one-on-one time with my new favorite." He drummed his fingers on the nightstick at his belt.

__

Shit, Reno thought as Rude made his way over to Kaiser. The other guy, Tseng, was practicing shooting at a human-shaped target. He didn't seem to have any reaction when he fired, but all of his shots were straight on the mark. Reno's eyes almost popped out. The guy was _good_.

"Yes," Wat said, a slight sneer curling his lip. "That's our little prodigy. We'll have to promote him soon."

"You mean to full Turk rank?" Reno didn't like talking to Wat; in fact he'd realized by now he despised the man. But ignorance wasn't going to help him escape. 

"That's right. But don't think it's all that easy," Wat added. "He'll have to endure a fun little test first. Maybe I'll incorporate my nightstick into this one." He smirked, running a hand along the rod's surface. "What do you think, Reno?" he added, tapping him on the shoulder with it. Reno jolted with the shock, but didn't react. He'd be damned before he allowed the twisted bastard to-

Wat smashed the weapon across his face. When Reno fell back, Wat leaned over him, not relaxing the pressure. Reno screamed with the pain. His skin was burning, he felt little tendrils of flesh beginning to curl up…

And then it was over. Reno found himself flat on his back, crying. The wet tears hurt his scorched face. He had to turn onto his stomach so they would drip onto the floor instead.

But the burning pain on his skin was nothing compared to what he felt inside. It didn't seem humanly possible to hate someone so much, to want to kill them so badly. It was an insane need, this desire to make the man suffer… the need to hear him scream more terribly than Reno himself had. It wasn't a good feeling, in fact, it seemed to burn more than his blistering face. But it was satisfactory. Like a bad habit, like smoking or drinking. The hatred was the kind he knew could eat you alive from the inside out, but he didn't care. He let it. He wanted it to. He needed it to.

Wat grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him up. He was grinning. The son of a bitch was actually grinning. 

"After your reaction to the nightstick last night, I thought it might be interesting to crank the power up a notch," he explained. 

Reno said nothing. His hatred was so strong he was afraid he'd say the wrong thing, and consequently be beaten all the worse for it.

Wat rolled his eyes. "Oh, get over it. You'll heal eventually. We don't want our Turks to be little sissies." He gave Reno's burned cheek a doting pinch. "Want to further your skills?"

Oh, hell. He was going to be beaten anyway. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

Wat looked surprised. "I already explained that part." He tapped Reno's head with the nightstick. "Hit one-too-many times in the head, no doubt," he muttered. "It's because you're a Turk. Not a very good one, yet, that's obvious, but I'm sure you'll prove to be an apt student. Kaiser already likes you."

"No." Reno wavered slightly on his feet, fighting to keep standing. There was nothing he could grab hold of for balance except Wat, and he would rather fall over than lean on him. "Why are you, as a person, doing this? You can't possibly enjoy it."

Wat put a hand over his face in sarcastic remorse. "Oh, you've reached me, Reno. I've seen the error of my ways. I'm so ashamed of myself. I think I'll cry now." Without warning he jabbed the nightstick into Reno's gut, twisting it as hard as he could. Reno doubled over in pained surprise. With an immense effort, he lifted his head to see Wat's malicious grin.

"I do enjoy it, Reno," he whispered between grit teeth. "More than you could ever know. You think I learned how to use this thing by myself?" He twisted the rod again, shoving Reno to the floor. He stood over him, gripping the nightstick tightly in one hand. The smile was gone. "It's my little compensation. It gives me _satisfaction_, if you will." He lifted the nightstick in demonstration. "The man at the handle is having, after all, infinitely more fun than the man at the other end." 

"You want me to be like that?" Reno couldn't speak above a whisper. "You want me to turn out a sick twisted bastard like you? It's not gonna happen." He tried to scowl, but couldn't feel his lips. "Never."

Wat only smiled. "Oh, yes it will, Reno." He was still smiling when he brought the nightstick down on Reno's head.

~

Their dinner was meager- simply tasteless gray gruel, a crust of bread, and water- but Reno ate like he hadn't seen food in days. Which was pretty much true.

Wat and Kaiser ate the same standing up. Reno had wondered at first why they stood while he, Rude, Tseng and Lynn sat at a wooden table, but he lost interest immediately at the sight of the food. 

Wat and Kaiser stood in front of the exits from the mess hall; Wat in front of the stairwell leading down to the cells, Kaiser by the door to the training center.

When "dinner" was ended Wat came and took Lynn's arm. "Did you forget, my dear? You're not sleeping in that cold cell tonight."

A quick flash of anger made Lynn flush, but she immediately regained her blank, resigned composure. She let Wat lead her past Kaiser. When the door slammed shut the steel reverberated throughout the mess hall. The finality of it was like a tomb closing over Lynn's fate.

Reno saw Rude give Tseng a grim look, but the dark-haired man made not response. The guy seemed totally devoid of any kind of personality.

"Come," Kaiser ordered, crossing the room to lead the way down the stairs. Rude looked back once at the other door before following.

Reno walked beside him. Despite the fact that he didn't know the man very well, he knew Rude was calmly hiding smoldering rage. His clenched fists were dead giveaways. 

Apparently he wasn't the only one who wanted to kill Wat.

Kaiser locked them in their cells and left. Reno lay down on his pallet to try to get a little rest. He was so tired he felt he could sleep for a year.

Yet, long after he'd lain down he was still wide awake. It was torture, being that physically exhausted and not being able to slow your mind enough for one of life's most fundamental needs. 

He sat up. "Rude? You awake?"

The other man grunted. "Yeah."

He walked over to the set of bars separating them, not wanting to wake Tseng- not because he cared whether Tseng got any sleep or not, he just didn't want the guy to overhear what he had to say.

There was a rustling noise as Rude got out of bed and joined him at the bars. "What are you doing awake?"

Reno shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. What about you?"

Rude didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was quiet. "I can never sleep when he's doing that to Lynn."

"Oh." Reno was quiet for a moment as well. Unexpectedly, he laughed. "It's so weird. Right now I'm wishing so badly I was home, and I don't even have a home." The laughter threatened to dissolve into tears. "It's so fucked up."

"I know." Rude's voice was hoarse. "I know what you mean." He changed the subject abruptly. "You asked me something today, Reno."

"I did?"

"You asked me if I would come with you if you somehow found a way to escape. I didn't really answer you." He sighed. "I guess I've been hoping that if I just acted like it was all okay, it would be. If I pretended it wasn't real, it wouldn't be." His voice hardened. "But I can't take what he does to Lynn. It's killing her, I can tell. I want to find a way to get her out of here, if nothing else."

Reno nodded, even though he knew Rude couldn't see it in the near-darkness. "We'll take her, too."

"We'll all get out of here." For the first time Rude actually sounded hopeful. "Even Tseng. We'll get rid of Wat and Kaiser somehow, burn this place down. Maybe even burn down the Shinra building, too." 

"Yeah," Reno agreed, "but there's one thing we gotta do before that."

"What's that?"

"You, me and Lynn. We're all gonna go to a bar, a real good one, and get roaring drunk. To celebrate."

Rude laughed. It was a good sound to hear.

It was complete nonsense, of course. A whimsical fairy tale. But the two of them ignored harsh reality and made plans for what they'd do when they got out. Eventually, Reno even forgot he was in a cell. He forgot he was cold and utterly miserable, forgot he wouldn't even have anywhere to go when he got out.

The door to the top of the stairwell slammed open, casting a shaft of light down the stone steps. Reno and Rude stopped talking abruptly as Wat descended the steps, whistling. He tugged Lynn behind him.

The optimistic mood quickly evaporated, replaced by the grittier, familiar rush of warm hatred. Reno heard Lynn give a cry of pain as Wat flung her into her cell. He closed the door, locked it, and then opened Tseng's.

"Well Tseng, you son of a bitch," he greeted. "Ready for some fun, now that I'm all relaxed?" He said no more, and Tseng, predictably, said nothing at all as he followed Wat up the stairs.

When they had left Rude went to the front of his cell. "Lynn? Are you all right?"

Silence, for almost a full minute. When Lynn's response finally came, it carried none of her usual sarcasm or anger. "Please don't talk to me," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I just can't talk right now."

Reno listened to the exchange with mounting anger. He hated Wat. He wanted to kill him so badly it was frightening. As he lay down, he vowed to himself that someday, he would fulfill that desire. No matter what it took, he would kill Wat.

Reno didn't know it, but that night he completed the first step toward becoming a Turk.


	7. Tseng's Promotion

Tseng's Promotion

The days, the weeks, the months melded together. Reno wasn't aware of the small changes within him, but they came about. He grew physically stronger, and much more tolerant of pain. With time he could endure the nightstick's power on the second level without crying out. (Although he didn't think he'd ever get used to the highest level.) Overall, Rude was right- you did kinda get used to it. 

Reno and Rude grew close quickly. They talked often about what they would do when they got out of Death Row- idle prattle, both knew, but still fun to dream about. Rude seemed to rise up out of the grim lethargy he'd been sinking into before Reno's arrival.

Lynn, on the other hand, grew steadily more detached and despondent. Rude had been right about her, too- the place really did seem to be killing her. Dark circles appeared under her eyes and didn't go away. She lost weight and her skin grew pale. Even Wat seemed to notice.

"You seem to be down lately, Lynn," he remarked one day. He grinned. "I think I know just where to put my nightstick to cheer you up."

She gave him a look of blank indifference before sweeping away. 

Reno still played dumb when it came down to his uniform. Every day he was beaten severely for the lapse in discipline, but he doggedly kept up his obstinacy. He considered it a matter of pride.

Roughly eight weeks after Reno's arrival, Kaiser took Tseng somewhere out of Death Row. Wat wouldn't tell them where they had gone, saying only that it was "for the good of Tseng's raining." Then he had promptly smacked Rude on the head with the nightstick for asking.

"All right." Wat pretended to be surprised as he observed the three lined up in front of him. "Reno! You're not dressed properly _again_!" He shook his head in mock sorrow. "Rude, go spar with Lynn while I remind Reno why his life sucks."

Tseng and Kaiser didn't return all morning, in fact, it was dinnertime before the two marched in, Tseng shivering a little. Reno watched in fascination as Tseng peeled off sleet-soaked garments and threw them in a corner of the mess hall before sitting down to eat. He'd almost forgotten there could be such things as rain or snow.

Tseng picked at his food, not really eating. He appeared so deep in thought that he didn't even respond to Rude's question when asked, making the bald man repeat himself. 

"Where did you go, Tseng?"

Tseng didn't look up. "There was a town called Corel opposing Shinra. A rebel group tried to sabotage the reactor."

Reno and Rude waited. Even Lynn forgot her black mood momentarily to ask the obvious: "What'd you do?"

Tseng picked up his glass of water, taking a long drink. When he at last put it down, he wiped his mouth and said, matter-of-factly, "I took a squad of men and crushed the group."

"What!" Lynn sounded shocked. "You killed them?"

Tseng glanced at her, annoyed. "It was part of my last test. To become a complete Turk. Kaiser was there, evaluating me. What was I supposed to do?"

Wat and Kaiser appeared to be in deep discussion. "You kids go on to bed," Wat called. "I'll be down in a minute to tuck you in."

On the way down the stairs Reno stopped. "Go on ahead, Rude," he said when the other looked back at him. Shrugging, Rude continued down the stairs, followed by Lynn. Reno grabbed Tseng's arm when the older man moved past him. 

"Wait a minute, buddy. I want to talk to you."

Tseng looked at him blankly. "What do you want?"

"I want to know what really went on with you today." Tseng opened his mouth, but Reno added, "And don't give me that bullshit you fed the others. I want the truth. The whole truth."

Tseng gave him a quizzical look. "What makes you think I didn't tell the whole truth?"

Reno rolled his eyes. "You? Meticulous, precise Tseng, giving an obscure answer?" He leaned against the cement wall of the stairwell. "My guess is you're hiding something."

Tseng sighed, leaning against the wall beside him. "If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"

Reno shrugged. "Probably."

Tseng didn't look at him. He didn't speak. Reno waited patiently, knowing he would come out with it eventually. 

When Tseng did speak, his voice was scarcely audible. "Kaiser took me to this mining town, Corel, to meet the Shinra managers. The residents allowed Shinra to use their meeting hall when necessary. I met all of the big suits- Scarlet, head of the Weapons Development Department; Heidegger, our boss; the Vice President, Rufus Shinra; even the President himself. Kaiser told them all I was on my first mission.

"The President informed us how the town housed a small rebel factor that resisted Shinra. He gave Kaiser strict orders to take care of it in a way that showed Shinra's power. When we left, Kaiser told me that what the President really wanted was for us to destroy the town. Then he looked at me real hard and said, 'This is part of your training, Tseng. Let's see how much of a Turk you can be.' He gave me a squad of men to use under my command and told me to get to it.

"I burned the place down. The entire town."

Tseng's hands were trembling. "The survivors were rounded up and shot, under my orders. The bodies were placed in the local trash pit, where they were soaked in kerosene and torched, as a message to all who oppose Shinra. Kaiser stood there with his arms folded, watching the whole thing. By the time we left, Corel was nothing but ashes."

Tears were sliding down Tseng's face. "I can still hear the screams," he whispered. "Oh, God. I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of those screams."

Reno was taken aback. He'd always thought of Tseng as a cold, faceless yes-man. He hadn't expected the man to feel. To hurt.

"Why'd you do it, Tseng?" he asked quietly. "Why didn't you just tell Kaiser to fuck off? Even dying's gotta be better than killing all those people."

Tseng wiped away the tears with the back of his hand, regaining his composure. "This is why." He pulled a small picture from his jacket pocket, allowing Reno to take it.

It was a faded, ripped photo of a slender teenage girl with soft brown hair and big green eyes. She was smiling at the camera, with her mouth open as though she was speaking. In her arms she held a bouquet of flowers. 

Reno looked up. "Who is she?"

Tseng reached out to take the picture back, running a finger along its surface. 

"A very dear friend of mine," he said softly. "Her name's Aeris." He slipped the photo back into his pocket. "She never even knew what happened when Kaiser took me away. We weren't…together…in the usual sense, but…she's special to me."

"They let you keep this?" Reno asked, indicating Tseng's pocket, where the picture was tucked away. 

Tseng shrugged. "I demanded it back. Kaiser was going to get rid of it, but Wat convinced him to let me have it, saying something about false hope." He swallowed with difficulty. "She keeps me going, when I'm ready to give up and die." He looked hard at Reno. "That's why I torched that town. If I make it to full Turk rank, I get out of here. I can see her again."

Reno nodded slowly. Tseng had something to live for. Lucky guy.

The door slammed open. Wat glared. "What are you two doing?"

"Discussing the best way to send you to hell," Reno snapped. "Get out of here, Wat."

Snarling, Wat socked him in the jaw. Reno fell back, tumbling down the last of the stone steps. Wat jumped down the rest to kick him in the side. "Get up!"

When Reno didn't budge fast enough to suit him he clouted him on the head with the nightstick. "Move!"

Reno stumbled as Wat flung him into his cell. He turned around just as the door clanged shut behind him. 

"One way or another, you're going to learn discipline," Wat told him softly, peering through the bars. "I think I know how. I think I know just how to crush you."

Reno scowled at him. "You think you're so bad-ass. Lemme tell you something, Wat. You aren't going to make me sink to your level. Because the only person who can make me do that is me. Not you, me. I'm the one who can decide what to do with my life. You think you can make me a Turk just because you want me to be one? Think again."

A blast of energy shot from the end of the nightstick, throwing him against the wall. His head slammed into cement. Reno struggled to breathe as he slumped to the floor.

__

Damn, I didn't know that thing could do that. 

Wat only stopped to give him a vicious stare before locking the other cells and storming upstairs. Reno got to his feet, rubbing his head. There was silence, until Rude finally broke it. 

"Shit, Reno. You gotta stop pissing him off like that."

Tseng surprised them all by laughing. "On the contrary- it's really very amusing. Someone's got to tell Wat like it is. Keep it up, Reno."

Reno grinned, even though he thought his face might crack. "Thanks. I'll try."

~

The next day was Tseng's final test before becoming a Turk.

They met in the training room. Tseng looked calm, if slightly uncomfortable. Lynn watched passively, as though she didn't care what happened one way or another. Rude stood close to her, with Reno by his side. 

Tseng's eyes widened when Wat produced the nightstick. Since he wasn't one of Wat's personal favorites, like Reno or Lynn, he hadn't been expecting to be beaten with the electric rod today.

Wat smiled nastily, flipped the nightstick with a strange kind of grace, and held it out, handle-first, to Reno. Reno stared at it stupidly, not knowing if it was some kind of trick.

"Take it." Wat's voice was soft, almost gentle, completely belaying his hard eyes. "Unless you'd rather be feeling it."

Hesitantly Reno took the weapon. It was switched off, so he felt nothing when he ran a hand over the smooth finish that had given him so much pain. It seemed deceptively harmless, now. 

"Switch it on," Wat instructed. "You've seen me do it enough times. You know how it's down."

As if by reflex, Reno's thumb found the hidden switch beneath the handle. He jolted with the shock of the powerful currant running the weapon. The rubber handle absorbed most of the shock, but there was still a numbing, prickly response under his hand. Before he had come to Death Row, he might have called the feeling pain, but his hardened senses felt only a pleasant tingling sensation compared to the very real pain the nightstick could induce.

"Train Tseng using high power," Wat ordered.

Reno looked at him in scorn, snapping out of his odd trance. "What do you think I am?"

He didn't see Kaiser move, but suddenly found himself against the wall, the big man leaning over him. 

"You're a Turk," Kaiser informed him coldly. "You will act as such." He grabbed Reno by his open collar and flung him to the floor. 

"Do it, Reno." Wat's voice was still quiet.

Reno slowly got up. Dimly he wondered if he could take out both Wat and Kaiser with the nightstick before they could react. He made an experimental move toward them, but Kaiser gave him a warning glare beneath his heavy brow.

__

Okay. Not trying to get out of this that way.

"I won't deliberately hurt a friend." Tseng, his friend? It was strange to think of him that way; even after all this time, he barely knew the guy. Still, in a strange way, he, Tseng, Rude and Lynn were all…allies. They were all united against Wat and Kaiser.

Kaiser clouted him across the mouth with that black armor-backed glove he always wore. The blow nearly knocked Reno off his feet again. His mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood. "Do it." 

"No."

It was surprisingly exhilarating, directly disobeying Kaiser like this. It was the certainty of the situation, the knowledge that, as he had told Wat the previous night, neither of the two could _make_ him do what they wanted. He was in full control over what he chose or chose not to do, and they couldn't change that. Nobody could change that.

Wat seemed to be miffed that Kaiser was taking over his show. "Tseng!"

The dark-haired man looked up. "Yes, sir?"

Wat indicated Reno, who was wiping blood from his mouth. "Show Reno what needs to be done."

"Yes, sir."

Tseng stepped over him, hand out for the nightstick. Reno was so shocked he let him take it. He was still standing there numbly when Tseng tripped his legs out from under him and forced him down. He felt the weapon pressing against his shoulder blade, filling him with the mindless delirium of pain. He could only think one thing:

__

Damn you, Tseng! You're supposed to be on my_ side!_

The pain didn't let up; the pressure only increased as Tseng leaned forward. "Reno, you idiot," he growled between his teeth. "Do it. I have no qualms about training _you_." 

"Tseng-" He couldn't get any more out.

"It's the only way I'll ever see her again." His voice was pleading, even though he was the one in control. "Reno, I didn't make it this far to be let down now." He took away the nightstick, stepping back. Reno lay on the floor, gasping as he tried to think. What Tseng was asking was too much. Tseng didn't understand what the nightstick meant to him. It was more than a weapon; it was an instrument to punish, torture, humiliate. He wouldn't do it. He refused. 

At last he got to his feet, not about to wait for an impatient kick from Wat or Kaiser. Tseng handed him the nightstick silently. As he did so, he mouthed something. _Please._

He's begging me, Reno realized_. Damn, he's actually begging me._

Begging Reno to torture him so he could become a Turk.

It was madness. Hell, it had always been insane.

Who was he to argue with a man who wanted to be tortured? Who begged?

He felt Rude and Lynn watching him as he turned the nightstick on once again. He found himself liking the feel of the weapon, enjoying the power that came from being on the good end.

__

All right, Tseng. You asked for it.

Closing his eyes, he brought the nightstick down. 

Tseng's first scream was intoxicating. Rather than thwarting Reno's resolve, it only served to strengthen it, making him intensify the punishment. When Tseng tried to crawl away Reno put his foot down on the man's back, just how Wat liked to do it, and held the nightstick to his neck. The acrid smell of burning flash reached his nostrils. Tseng's desperate cries were only annoying him, like a fly that wouldn't stop buzzing in his ear.

__

Dammit Tseng, you asked for it. You asked for it!

"Reno, stop!" It was Rude. "Can't you see he's had enough?"

Rude's voice finally penetrated the madness. Reno stepped away, the arm holding the nightstick trembling. His whole body was trembling. 

Tseng was a bloody mess on the floor. Where had all the blood come from?

He tried to swallow but couldn't. Rude and Lynn were staring at him as though they'd never seen him before. As though they'd never see him the same again.

Kaiser was helping Tseng to stand. "Congratulations, Rookie. You're a Turk."

Tseng, who was shaking on his feet, made no comment. 

Wat slunk over to Reno, holding his hand out expectantly. Reno stared blankly, not understanding what he wanted.

"My nightstick, Reno."

Realizing he still clutched the hated weapon tightly, Reno shoved it into Wat's waiting hand. Wat slowly hooked it to his belt, his eyes on Reno the whole time. There was an expression on his face that Reno could not read.

"Well done," he said softly. As if it could no longer be suppressed, a vicious grin crept onto his lips. "I knew you had it in you." He tapped Reno's forehead with a finger. "It's all in there. Right there, waiting to be applied."

Reno stood numbly as Wat strolled away.

~

Rude stood outside the bar quietly, smoking a cigarette. Several more littered the ground at his feet. He'd been outside for a while, thinking. The smoking was a nervous habit, empty movements born from his absent frame of mind. His thoughts raced everywhere, trying not to think of the one thing he couldn't keep off his mind. It was harder than he'd expected.

The face kept resurfacing in his mind. The face he had successfully buried for years was suddenly back and he couldn't make it go away. He wouldn't be able to simply shove this incident to the back of his mind. Reno's earlier comment about training hadn't helped either.

No matter how hard he tried to fight, the ghosts kept coming…and before he could stop it, he was back.

Back in his own personal hell.

Yup, we're switching to Rude. If you're wondering what I'm getting at with him, well, I'm not telling! I'm sorry, I didn't expect this whole flashback thing to take so long, but I guess it's just as well. One doesn't become a Turk overnight, after all! ****

Oh yeah, the reaction I got when I asked for encouragement last time was really funny. Everyone encouraged me, all right- by threatening to kill Wat! Or by actually killing him in the review… (thinks of Locked Heart Ami's review and pales) So I won't ask for encouragement this time. I'll just look at each of you and give the puppy-dog eye thing. Reviews, please?

See ya! Next chap arriving soon!

~Lila


	8. Beyond the Edge

Beyond the Edge

       Ever the observer, it didn't come as a surprise to Rude when Reno changed, after the incident with Tseng. Talks of escape lay in the past. Reno still dressed slovenly, but without the rebellious vigor of before. He seemed to be desperately trying to cling to something- to some part of the man he'd been before while he sunk inevitably further into the grim routine of Death Row.

            Gone was Reno's fire. In its place was fear. Fear of himself.

            At least, that was what Rude surmised. He had no way of knowing for sure, because any time he tried to bring up it up, Reno refused to speak of it. But Rude knew his fellow Turk-in-training was deathly afraid of the nightstick. No, that wasn't quite right. Reno wasn't afraid of the nightstick so much as he was afraid being forced to use it again. 

Perhaps the only compensation for the whole ordeal was Tseng's departure. His training was complete. Kaiser wouldn't tell them where he'd gone, but Wat mentioned that he'd be working in the Shrina building itself, since he was a full Turk now.

            In the end, Reno appeared to put the incident behind him, but he still occasionally fell into dark depressions he couldn't be roused out of. In those times, he was thoughtful and quiet, and when disturbed, even more sarcastic than usual. Often, then, Wat would let him have it- beating him more severely than ever. It didn't do a lot- Reno wouldn't speak a word throughout the ordeal, and even Wat would eventually tire of the monotonous punishment – merely served to strengthen the bond of hatred between the two men.

            In short, life returned to normal- or what was normal in Death Row. Reno was still Reno, even if he did seem half-crazy sometimes. Rude was still Rude, more or less. But as for their third ally… 

Lynn seemed worse every day. Rude had never seen her like this. It was like she'd lost the will to live. She went through her routines like an automaton, face blank and unreadable. He wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but her sprit had been broken. 

Or that was what he thought.

One night, about a month after Tseng had left, the three rookies arrived for their usual bowls of gruel. As they sat down, Reno sarcastically muttered, "What, no barbecue sauce?"

            Rude gave a rare smile and sank down next to him. "C'mon. You'd pour it on this stuff?" He indicated the greasy bowl of slop.

            Reno rolled his eyes. "Hell no. I'd chuck the bowl away and drink the sauce instead."

            Lynn sat silently across from them, not eating, simply staring into her bowl. Naturally, Wat decided to take it upon himself to cheer her up. 

            "Why aren't you eating, Lynn?" he asked conversationally as he plopped down beside her. "It's pretty good. Isn't it, Reno? " He glanced to the red-haired man innocently.

Reno gave him a bored, disinterested look and didn't answer.

            "There, you see? Reno likes it."

            She didn't look at him. "Get the hell away from me, Wat," she said quietly.

            "Lynn, you've got to eat," he insisted. A mocking smirk grew on his face as his fingers curled around her right breast. "Unless you miss me already."

Lynn froze. Suddenly, she clamped her hand over Wat's wrist and flung him aside. Before anybody could react, she jumped to her feet, knocking over the table. Gruel splashed all over Rude and Reno.

            "Get away from me!" she screamed at Wat, her face flushed, her eyes narrowed into slits. "I hate you, Wat! I've always hated you! Just go away!" 

            He slowly climbed back to his feet. "Okay, maybe you're just not in the mood-"

            She punched him in the face before he could get more out. He had to use both hands to slow the onslaught of blood that spurted from his nose. Kaiser was making his way over, but Lynn paid no attention. She grabbed Wat by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall, putting her face close to his.

            "I'm pregnant, you goddamned bastard," she whispered in a voice as cold as ice.

            Wat's hands slowly dropped away from his face. His eyes were wide. "Oh, shit," seemed to be all he could say.

            Forgotten, Rude and Reno looked at each other. Reno looked at the bald man questioningly, but Rude shook his head, indicating they stay where they were. Neither of them could do a thing.

            Wat looked like he was having trouble figuring out what to do. "I…I think…" He honestly seemed to have had no idea that his reckless actions could have actual consequences. Rude almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

            "Listen, Wat," Lynn said desperately. "Let me go." Her fingers dug into his shoulder. "Just let me out of here. I'll disappear. I won't tell anyone anything."

            By now Kaiser had reached them. He pulled Lynn off Wat to slam him into the wall again himself. "You idiot!" he shouted. "What did you do?! You've ruined a perfectly good Turk!"

            Wat seemed to be rapidly losing control. "Shut up, Kaiser! Shut the fuck up!" he screamed.

            Lynn stood off to the side, hands balled into fists, watching. Rude wanted to go to her, but he was afraid she'd cry if he did. He'd never seen Lynn cry and didn't want to see it now. Lynn in tears would push him too far. He'd already fallen off the edge, but was managing to cling tenaciously to some remnant of sanity. He didn't want to fall into that pit of madness that seemed to have claimed the rest of them. He didn't want to find out what he might do.

            Reno looked like he felt the same way, but he knew what would happen if he lost his frail grip on sanity. He glanced at Rude helplessly. What the hell could they do?

            Absolutely nothing. Rude finally stepped over to Lynn, and put a hand on her shoulder. He didn't speak a word. Silent comfort was all he had to offer.

            At last Kaiser turned away from Wat, muttering under his breath. He seemed to be looking around for something to lash out at, and at the sight of Reno and Rude, found it.

            "Out!" he roared. Giving Wat a look that plainly said, _I'll deal with you later, _he practically shoved the two down the stairs. Rude scrambled into his cell just as the door clanged shut behind him. He hadn't gotten to his feet before Kaiser went charging back up the stairs.  

            Silence descended over the basement, and with it a choking sense of hopelessness. All it took was Kaiser's bad temper, and they were locked up again, powerless to help Lynn. Now they were stuck in cells, unable to affect events even as they transpired on the upper floor.  

            Rude leaned against the door, looking helplessly at Reno.

            "I can't believe this," Reno sighed, running a hand through his red hair. Rude wanted to scream at him for making such an idiotic understatement, but merely shrugged. 

            The movement caused the door he was leaning on to swing open. Rude stumbled and barely caught himself, staring in shock. Kaiser had forgotten to lock his door.

            "You lucky son of a bitch," Reno said slowly. He pushed experimentally on his door, but it didn't budge. He cursed, then looked back at his friend. "Why don't you go up and see what's going on?"

            "They'd probably kill me," Rude muttered. 

            There was a thump from the upper floor, then a shout of pain from Wat. 

            "Sounds more like they're killing each other," Reno observed.

            Rude hesitated. Lynn was up there… 

            "Don't try it, man," Reno cautioned him. "I wasn't being serious." He sighed. "Hate to say this, but there's nothing we can do."

            He was right. Rude shut the door and sat down heavily on the floor. The only thing to do was wait.

            Time passed. There were no more sounds from above. Rude grew impatient. He heard Reno pacing and muttering to himself, and considered telling him to shut up, but didn't bother. Reno was only handling the tension in his own way.

            Eventually the weight of the evening's events took their toll on him, and Rude dozed off. He had no idea how long he slept, but he awoke when the door clanged open. Slow footsteps descended the steps. Rude jumped to his feet as the individual came into view. 

            It was Wat, but in the near-darkness Rude had trouble recognizing him at first. His steps were slow and dragging, his head down. He walked like an old man, a completely different person. Rude might even have enjoyed the sight, if not for what he saw next.

            Wat was carrying Lynn in his arms.

            The door to her cell creaked as he pulled it open. Rude saw him set Lynn on her pallet. She gave a little gasp of pain, the first sound she'd made since their entrance. 

            She was hurt. That was why Wat was carrying her. Rude felt a wave of anger. They'd hurt her. Not as part of her training, as a Turk, but for punishment: malice. Rude gripped the bars of the door, remembering it was unlocked. He knew he could kill Wat now. Now, while he was in that broken-down, defeated state. He should kill him. 

            Yet, he didn't move, merely watched to see what would happen next.

            Wat didn't leave. He looked down at her, silent, for the longest time. At last he said, "I'm sorry this happened to you, Lynn."

            Her voice was little more than a reedy whisper. "A little late for that. Fuck you."

            Rude saw him nod. Finally he turned and walked out of the cell. At its exit he looked back. "You know," he began, rather hesitantly, then stopped. Rude waited for him to continue, but he never did. Wat lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. 

            At this angle, Rude could see him more clearly. Wat didn't look to be in the best shape, to put it mildly. His face was dark with blood, and the area around one eye was black. Apparently Kaiser didn't only punish rookies. 

            For the first time, he wondered who had trained Wat. He couldn't have been a Turk forever. He had to have been a person, once, as absurd as the idea seemed. Somewhere, inside his mocking, sadistic exterior, there had to be a human being, much like Reno and Rude themselves. 

            Rude almost laughed at the thought. Maybe a person, but not like himself or Reno. He couldn't imagine Wat as anything but sarcastic, cruel… 

            …standing there looking like he'd broken something dear to him. Almost like the stupid child who throws his toy across the room in a temper, then cries when he can't put it together again. Defeated. 

Wat never finished his sentence. After a time, he slowly walked back up the stairs. As he passed, Rude again toyed with the idea of breaking out of his cell and fighting him. But, suddenly, it really didn't seem worth it anymore. 

            As soon as the door clanged shut Reno stepped to the front of his cell. "Lynn?" he called.            

            She said nothing. Reno had the good sense to say no more, realizing she didn't feel like talking.

            A hush fell over them once more, thick and impenetrable as a fog. Reno said nothing more, and Rude certainly wasn't about to break the quiet. Like the last shred of sanity, it was something to be abandoned only when no other options were available. Precious as gold, but not half as beautiful. Some silences were beautiful, but this one was ugly with hatred and fear. 

            After a time, through the silence, Rude heard a soft gasping, whimpering sound. It took him a while to understand what the sound was.

            Lynn was crying.

            The realization hit him like a dagger through his heart. Lynn never cried. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never seen her shed a tear. 

            He opened his door and quietly slipped to the outside of her cell. "Lynn."

            Lynn lay on her back on the pallet. She stopped crying abruptly when she heard him.

            "Lynn. Are you alright?" He felt stupid asking such a thing; it was obvious she wasn't. But he didn't know what else to say.

            She turned her face toward him so he could see. "Do I look alright?"

            Her face shocked him. Bruises and cuts marred her once-smooth skin; her hair was soaked with blood. Combined with the dark circles under her eyes and the unnatural pallor of her flesh, she seemed to resemble a corpse. Rude knew the rest of her body had to look the same. 

            His anger flared again. "What happened?" he demanded.

            She turned her face away. "Kaiser…was angry. He hit Wat a lot, slapped him around. Then he decided to punish me. He…hurt me. Hit me everywhere. I was sure I was going to die. I think Wat got upset, tried to stop him. Kaiser threw him against the wall. Then he went back to beating me."

            She looked back toward him, gave a lopsided grin. Against the gruesome backdrop of her destroyed face, the effect was quite frightening. "I was pregnant." She emitted a dry, rasping laugh. "Not anymore. Kaiser made sure of that."

            Rude grit his teeth. He wanted to kill Kaiser, at that instant. With his bare hands. But that wouldn't take back what he'd done to her. "Lynn, I'm going to get you out of here," he said vehemently, wishing he was as certain as he sounded. "I swear it." 

            She sighed, as if she didn't believe him. "Don't bother." Slowly she reached through the bars, offering her hand. He took it gently. "There's no point. There's no goddamned point in anything anymore." She began to cry again, little gasping sounds like before. "Why couldn't he have killed me, Rude? It would've been…so much easier…"

            Rude had no idea how long he sat there, holding Lynn's hand. The anger within didn't burn itself out, like it usually did. It stayed and grew. He knew Lynn, knew she didn't deserve this. Nobody deserved this.

            Kaiser had done this to her. Wat had done this to her. They made her suffer so much she wanted to die, then didn't let her. That was probably the worst thing you could do to a person.

            The night passed before he knew it. Kaiser arrived to let them out of their cells the following morning, right after the alarm rang. Rude waited for him.

            He stopped at the sight of Rude out of his cell. A snarl grew on his face.. "What-"

            Rude hit him before he could finish, slamming his fist into his stomach. Kaiser doubled over with pain. Rude grabbed him by the hair and threw him to the floor, then stood over him, breathing heavily.

            "You hurt her." His voice was thick. "I won't let you hurt her anymore."

            With a growl Kaiser threw himself at Rude's legs, sending him down. Rude fought wildly to overcome his opponent, oblivious to Reno's cheers and Lynn's hoarse shouts. He never found out what came over him that day, but he later thought he might've turned a little crazy. Maybe became a victim of that same madness that had come over Reno that day with Tseng. That came over them all.          

            Inevitably, the more experienced man began to gain the upper hand. Kaiser shoved him into the wall, locking both of Rude's fists behind his back. Rude felt the Turk's and grip him by the neck and twist his head back. 

            Kaiser spoke directly into his ear. "Don't try to fight, Rude. You know very well I could snap your neck like a twig."

            Rude knew he was right. He set his jaw in frustration, but didn't move. He could feel Kaiser's hot breath by his ear. 

            "Tseng was smart. He knew that fighting was useless. It's like trying to outrun death. It just doesn't work.

            "I've trained more Turks than you could know. It's always the same- at first they fight, but over time they gradually realize they can't win. Tseng figured it out quickly. So did Lynn, after a while. So did you…I thought."

            It was true, much as Rude hated to admit it. Before Reno's arrival, Rude had given up. But the red-head had awoken something inside of Rude, something that wouldn't die. Rude knew that no matter how much he was trained or tortured, he wouldn't revert back to his old self. He couldn't.

"Maybe it was that stupid slum drunk. I knew Wat shouldn't have brought him in." Kaiser tightened his grip. "There are some with Turk discipline, potential. And there are some who are weak. Too weak. Like Lynn." Kaiser's voice lowered in pitch. "Don't think she didn't deserve what she got. That skinny little bitch had it coming to her."

            It was then Rude lost his tedious grip on the edge.

            He looped his leg around Kaiser's and twisted, breaking free of the Turk's grip. Kaiser fell back, caught off-guard. Rude went for him, sending both of them down. He got in a few good hits before the other man kicked him off. Rude rolled and shot back to his feet. 

            Kaiser flew at him. Rude just had time to register the sight of something shiny in his hand before Kaiser was upon him. 

            Even though he now had the knife to avoid as well as Kaiser's strikes, Rude fought furiously, with everything he had. But it wasn't enough.

            The knife caught him a glancing blow on the shoulder. The cut was shallow, but it slowed Rude a bit. Enough for Kaiser to find the opening he needed.

            He slashed again, going for the face. Rude looked up, but he was too slow. The knife cut deep across his right eye, continuing over one temple. Rude let out a cry of pain and fell to his knees, blinded by his own blood.

            He didn't look up, but heard Kaiser give a snort of contempt. "You responded to deliberate provocation. Stupid." 

            Rude couldn't think, let alone speak. Through the haze of pain he heard Reno shouting something as Kaiser unlocked his door.   

            "What the hell do you think you're doing, you bastard? Hey, lemme go! I'm not going anywhere with you!"

            Rude felt himself losing consciousness. Reno's voice was fading. Rude's own thoughts were fading. The only thing that wasn't fading was the pain; that stayed, pulsing and unbearable.

            "You're just going to leave him there? He'll die if he doesn't get help, you idiot!"

            Then, Lynn's voice. "Rude? Rude!"

            She might've said more. He didn't know. He was already lost in the darkness.

~

When Rude woke, hours later, he didn't know where he was at first. The cement floor beneath him was slick with his blood. He could feel more crusting around his face.

He tried to move and was a little surprised when he couldn't. He couldn't even find the strength to lift his head.

So he simply lay there for a while, not really doing anything. He faded in and out of consciousness, waiting for something to happen. 

At last, something did. He heard the door slam open, and hurried footsteps rush down the stairs. He didn't know who it was, but didn't really care. 

He sensed someone kneel beside him, speaking in a rapid whisper. "Hey, Rude. You alright?"

He managed to turn his head enough to see, but dried blood obscured most of his vision. "Reno…?"

"Yeah." Reno gripped him by the shoulders and helped him to stand. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."   

Rude still felt groggy and weak; he had to lean heavily on his friend as they took a few cautious steps. "Lynn…" His voice sounded harsh and pained.

            "She's asleep." Reno's tone grew angry. "I don't blame you for going after that bastard. Hey, watch it. We're at the stairs."

            With Reno guiding, Rude managed to mount the steps. He wavered a little at the top, but Reno caught him and practically dragged him down the hall.

            "We're here." Through his hazy vision, Rude could see that by "here", Reno meant the washroom. He allowed Reno to haul him a few more feet, then heard the tap running. He staggered to the sink and dipped his head under the faucet, allowing the cold water to numb the angry laceration. 

            "I don't know how bad you're hurt, man," Reno said nervously while Rude cleaned out his wound. "I still don 't. But leaving you there in a pool of blood…it scared the shit out of me. How is it?"

            Rude clenched his teeth and rubbed at some of the dried blood along the injury with a paper towel. "It might heal. But I don't think I'll ever see too well out of this eye."

            Reno exhaled, running a hand through his hair. After a moment, he said, "We've got to get out of here, Rude. Wat's a jerk as well as a moron, but Kaiser's frickin' _nuts_." 

            Rude started to nod, but staggered a bit and had to grab at the sink for balance. The blood loss was starting to take its toll, and cleaning it out had started the flow again. He grabbed some more towels to stanch the wound and sat down next to his friend. "How did you convince them to let you back down to help me out?"

            Reno grinned. "When it was time for me to switch from Kaiser to our curly-haired imbecile, I happened to come across Wat outside, taking a piss. He never knew what hit him."    

 "You know, you passed up a perfect opportunity to escape," Rude said, surprised.

            Reno appeared both amused and insulted. "Now where's the fun in getting drunk by yourself? I told you: You, me, and Lynn. We've still gotta go to that bar."

            Rude was silent, thinking of Lynn's words the night before.

            _There's no point. There's no goddamned point in anything anymore._

"I wonder," he said slowly. "Would she even come, if we managed to escape?"

            Reno gave him a look that managed to convey both contempt and pity for his stupidity. "Of course she'll come." He nodded confidently. "You'll see."

            Rude rubbed his head. Reno hadn't mentioned escape for weeks. Now he was suddenly talking of it again? Now? "Reno, I'd thought you'd given up on the idea."

            Reno lowered his gaze. "Well, since last night, in between the more dramatic notes of dinner and watching you try to take on Kaiser, I've been thinking. And…yeah, it's true I don't really know what's happening to me. I mean, that day with Tseng…I'll never forget it." He looked up. "But I've decided we owe Wat and Kaiser a little something. A little thank-you."

            "Payback?"

            Reno smirked coldly. "Oh, yeah."

            Rude put a hand over his face, then pulled it away. It came away wet with blood. "I don't know." His voice was shaking. "Dammit, Reno, I'm scared to death. Look what they've done to us." _Look what they've done to me._

Reno brushed aside his lengthening hair. "You want to do worse to them, same as me. You know it." He looked at him calmly. "C'mon. You in or not?"

            Rude hesitated. He thought of Lynn, of her tears. In the end, that decided him. "I'm in."   


	9. Capital Punishment

Capital Punishment 

After the incident with Lynn, things seemed to calm down a little around Death Row. Rude's face healed, although, as he'd predicted, he wasn't able to see well out of his right eye. It didn't bother him too much, though, except when it came to target practice with guns. He had grown accustomed to looking through the sight with his right eye, and he had to learn to shoot all over again using the other.

Eventually Lynn also healed a bit, and before long she was being forced to train again. Rude knew she hadn't recovered emotionally –and that she probably never would. Her scars were more than skin-deep. 

Reno had suggested using a Restore materia on her, but Kaiser had responded with a derisive laugh, saying Turks didn't need materia. 

Although it was now clear that Kaiser was the one in charge, Wat regained his status as Supreme Asshole quickly enough. Whatever lesson he'd learned that night with Lynn, he seemed to have forgotten. Yet he stayed away from her, instead spent most of his time either torturing Reno or locking himself in one of the upper levels of Death Row.

Almost like what had happened with Tseng, everything seemed to return to normal. Yet, Rude knew better than to believe nothing had changed. He could sense the tension in the air, humming below the exterior surface. Like a storm on the horizon, it was there, waiting for just the right moment to strike.

It didn't have to wait long.

One day, shortly after the alarm rang, Kaiser came downstairs to let them out. He slunk up to Rude's cell with a smile. Immediately Rude knew this was not good. Kaiser didn't smile often- indeed, the expression seemed almost painful on his face- but when he did, it usually meant he'd thought of a new way to torture them. After Reno had returned to the basement to help Rude that time, Kaiser had hung the redhead by the manacles in his cell and left him there. At that time, Rude and Lynn weren't allowed in the basement, instead kept in the Training Center. At first, Reno had tried to make light of it ("Hey, at least I don't have to train!"), but long hours -days- by himself, with the minimal weight of his own body causing the manacles to dig into his wrists, had taken an effect. When Kaiser had arrived to cut him down, Reno had been delusional, crying and talking to voices that weren't there. At the sight, Kaiser had smiled, just the way he smiled now.

"Good news," the Turk said as he unlocked Rude's door. "Your last test is today."

"To become a Turk?" Reno came up to the bars of his cell and peered at Kaiser accusingly. "Why him? Hasn't Lynn been here longer than him?"

Kaiser's smile broadened. "Well…you could say it's Lynn's last test, too. In a way."

Rude definitely knew this was not good. Frowning with apprehension, he waited while Kaiser unlocked the other doors and followed the others upstairs. He tried to catch Lynn's eye, but she avoided his gaze. She had hardly spoken to anyone since that night, and Rude feared he was losing her. To what, he didn't know, but she was slipping out of his grasp. Every day she retreated further inward. He didn't know how far was too far, but he didn't want to find out. 

As they trudged up the stairs, Reno bent close to Rude and whispered. "The hell's going on?" Rude merely shrugged, but he was wondering the same thing. 

Kaiser led them past the washroom, through the Training Center, and directly outside. Besides the concrete helipad, the land surrounding Death Row was completely barren. The high wire fence was far enough away to still allow a rare sense of freedom to wash over Rude. He shivered involuntarily. It was raining, although not very hard. Rude put out a hand and watched the little droplets of water form a small puddle. He watched, mesmerized. It hadn't occurred to him that the world outside was changing, too, just as his own world had been.

Wat, who apparently had been waiting outside, joined them as Kaiser came to a halt some distance from the building. The blond-haired Turk didn't look nearly as gleeful as Kaiser did. A fresh bruise marred the pale skin of his face. Rude wondered what he'd done this time, and if it had to do with what was happening now.

Kaiser turned to face Wat, looking expectant. Wat slowly pulled a small handgun from his jacket holster, a different gun than the one they usually used for target practice. Rude recognized the style and somewhere from his scattered knowledge about firearms the name popped up: The Death Penalty. 

Kaiser nodded to the gun in Wat's hand. "You will use that," he informed Rude.

"For what?" Rude assumed they wanted him to perform some kind of difficult shot. Even so, the heavy feeling of dread in his chest wouldn't go away.

Kaiser suddenly reached out and clamped a hand around Lynn's arm. She cried out in surprise and tried to pull away, but he yanked her to him, pressing her close to his body, as though in some absurd mockery of a lovers' embrace. Again he gave that sickening smile. "Lynn and I will be standing 100 yards away. You are to take that gun and shoot."

"Shoot...you?"

Kaiser's expression sent chills running down Rude's spine. "Shoot me, and you've passed. You're a Turk. If you miss-" Here he tightened his grip on Lynn. "-or if you hit her, then you've failed. It's that simple."

"Bullshit!" Reno, quiet until now, glared at Kaiser angrily. "You sick bastard! Where does Lynn come into this?"

Although he was looking at Reno, Rude knew Kaiser was speaking to him. "When you've let your enemy see your weakness, you're already as good as defeated."

Reno sputtered a few choice words, but Kaiser ignored him. Still gripping Lynn, he turned and began to walk away. Lynn went with him, but turned her head back slightly, just so that her eyes met Rude's for a moment. For the first time in weeks, he saw something in them, something real. Anger…blame…sympathy…regret…maybe all of them at once. And there –right before she looked away –he thought he saw…relief. Rude couldn't tell; she looked away too quickly. The moment was broken, and he knew it wouldn't come again. Whatever happened to Lynn this day, the person inside her was dead, gone for good. 

The realization struck Rude to the core. He simply stood there as Lynn was led away, feeling as though his legs had turned to lead. Only when Wat silently pressed the gun in his hand did he realize it was time.

He saw Lynn and Kaiser, a good 100 yards away, just as the Turk had promised. He couldn't tell at this distance, but in his mind he saw Lynn's empty eyes looking at him, watching, waiting, hoping…

He brought the gun up to his good left eye. Although he was still unused to the awkward new position he'd been forced to take up, his hands were steady. That was good.

Reno suddenly flipped, grabbing Wat by his suit jacket and yanking him close. "You're just going to stand there?!" he yelled. "Why don't you do something? Why don't you stop him?"

Wat seemed unusually calm, but long hours of torture had taught Rude exactly when someone was near breaking point. Wat was near it now. "Turks don't go against orders," he said, biting the words off one at a time. "Turks don't interfere."

Reno shoved him back so hard Wat nearly fell. "You bastard," he whispered vehemently. "You're afraid of him, aren't you." It wasn't a question.

"Shut up, Reno," Wat hissed.

"You're afraid of him because he trained you!" Rude wasn't sure whether Reno was angry or incredulous. "Kaiser trained you, didn't he?"

Wat glared at him for a moment, then abruptly turned away. "What are you waiting for!" he shouted at Rude. "Shoot!"

Rude coolly flicked back the safety, aware of Reno suddenly by his side, but hardly hearing his words.

"Rude, you can do this. You're good, you're better than me at shooting. If you kill Kaiser, we're out of here. You, me, and Lynn. We can leave Wat here to rot." Reno was speaking fast, too fast, stumbling over his words. "We'll go to that bar. We'll get good and drunk, and we'll laugh about this day. Because you can do this. You know you can." 

Later Rude would wonder why he was so perfectly calm, so controlled. Later he would start trembling and never stop. But at that moment, all he was thinking of was the target. He felt his lips moving, but no sound emitted from them. He was suddenly very aware of how fast his heart was pounding, as though it was trying to match his panting breaths. Why was he panting? He wasn't hot or exerted. As a matter of fact he was cold; he was deathly cold-

He pulled the trigger. 

Almost the instant the shot rang out both Reno and Wat ran for Kaiser and Lynn. Rude followed more slowly. He didn't think he'd ever covered 100 yards in such a long time. It wasn't because he was afraid of what he might see; he already knew what had happened. Maybe it was because of what he might feel…

Kaiser stood with his arms folded, looking down at the fallen body of Lynn. The bullet had pierced her through the center of her chest, a few inches below the breastbone. She was still alive, somehow. As he approached she looked up at him with those empty eyes, her mouth working as though she was trying to speak, until all at once her last breath left, and her face went slack. Lifeless. It was odd, what a difference death made in her. Lynn usually had looked lifeless, those past few months, uncaring, unfeeling, no emotion whatsoever. But now…it was different. As though her soul- until then merely frozen over- had dried up or taken flight or something. At any rate it was gone. And it would never return.

Wat, kneeling at her side, at last reached breaking point. At first his eyes opened wide, and he looked to be in deep shock, until he suddenly threw back his head and let out the most horrible sound Rude had ever heard. More bestial than human, the awful wail rang through them all, shattering the grim silence after the gunshot. It went on and on, painful to bear, yet nobody made a move to stop it. As he watched, transfixed, Rude realized that in his own twisted way, Wat had actually cared for Lynn. This man, so warped and distorted by pain and hatred, had somehow found _something _in the flayed remnants of his mind. And now it was gone. Like Lynn.

Snarling, Kaiser backhanded Wat across the face. The younger Turk fell backward in the mud, getting muck all over his immaculate blue suit. Wat sat there a moment, no longer howling. For a moment he seemed to pull himself together, and he slowly got to his feet. Then he lost it again, broke and ran for the only solace he had: Death Row. 

It was raining harder now. Rude felt the droplets of water slide down his face. They seemed oddly like tears. He slowly reached up and touched one with his finger. Cool, wet, calm tears from the sky. Wat had cried over her, Reno's eyes were suspiciously bright, and even the sky was shedding tears for Lynn. Why didn't he have any of his own to give her? Didn't she deserve that much?

Maybe it had something to do with the way she looked. Lying there in the mud, eyes staring straight up, pale skin splashed with blood from her wound…no, that wasn't Lynn. Lynn was all sarcasm, all confident words and rolling eyes. Toward the end, Lynn was all coldness, sunken in despair. But here, like this? It just seemed…wrong.

That wasn't it. It suddenly came to him in a flash of clarity. Of course he couldn't cry for Lynn. What was he holding in his hand that very instant? The gun that had killed her. He had killed Lynn, just as the assassin sniped off his prey. The assassin never cried for his victims. Why would Rude?

Reno was talking to him. "C'mon, man, it wasn't your fault," he said quietly. "Nobody could've made that shot. They were too close. You know that, don't you? It wasn't your fault."

The gun slipped from his limp grasp to land in the mud. Suddenly Rude didn't want to be there anymore. The assassin never hung around after he'd made his shot. What was he thinking? He would get caught this way. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

It was time to leave.

"Reno," he whispered through dry, cracked lips. "Go."

Reno looked surprised. "What are you-"

"It ends now. Remember, Reno? It ends today."

Reno swallowed hard. He looked so young, right then, with his bright red hair plastered to his face. Unless you looked him in the eye, you'd have thought he was a kid. A tall, lanky kid. But his eyes…they weren't the eyes of a kid. They were the eyes of a man committed to revenge. To murder.

"Yeah," he said decisively. "Okay. I'll go find Wat. You…take care of yourself, alright, Rude?"

Rude didn't bother answering. Reno was already jogging back to the building. 

~

Reno followed Wat after leaving Rude. He wasn't worried about leaving Rude alone with Kaiser. After all, they both knew it was a fight to the death this time. He'd steadfastly insisted on being the one to go after Wat, though. He'd wanted the pleasure of killing that man all for himself. 

There were only two directions to go from the main entrance of Death Row: up and down. And since Reno was pretty sure Wat wouldn't go down to the cells, he headed up, to the main office. He'd actually only visited the office once, when he'd first been brought to Death Row with Wat, but he knew the way. You didn't easily forget the walk that changed your life…and that walk to the main office had done just that to Reno.

There wasn't a shred of doubt in Reno's mind as to what he would do to Wat. Oh, like Rude, he'd made that connection, that Wat was only another poor bastard trained to kill. However, Reno had made a vow to kill Wat. And he sure as hell wasn't about to break it, no matter how pathetic the guy seemed. Wat had done much that forced Reno to despise him. Sure, he hated Kaiser as well; that guy was a complete bastard. But Wat…Reno _loathed_ Wat. Reno was going to make sure the Turk would regret everything he'd done. 

Somehow, the idea of him losing this final battle never crossed his mind. Reno was far too wrapped up in thoughts of revenge to entertain the idea of defeat. Or maybe he just didn't care at that point. He had nothing to lose. 

Reno slammed open the door to the office. Wat was sitting mildly at the desk with his hands folded in front of him. Oddly enough, he appeared perfectly calm, without the slightest trace of surprise on his face. Almost like the inmate who'd made peace with himself before being put to death.

"Reno," he said matter-of-factly, as though he'd been expecting him. "You've come to kill me."

Reno nodded. "That's the idea."

The barest flicker of amusement flashed across Wat's face. "With what? Your bare hands?"

"If I have to."

"Just assumed you'd barge up here and figure it out then, hm?" Wat shook his head slowly. "You never learned discipline. That's my one regret."

"_That's _your one regret?" Reno said in disbelief. "Buddy, you'll regret a lot more by the time I'm through with you."

Wat slowly got up from the chair, his eyes on Reno the whole time. "I doubt it. You'll kill me quick."

"Is that what you think?" Reno snorted. "Guess again."

Wat folded his arms, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Why Reno, I thought you said you'd never turn out like me. 'A sick, twisted bastard' I think was what you called me. Have you changed your mind?"

Caught off-guard, Reno paused a moment, then glared. "Don't give me that. I don't really care what happens to me anymore. All I care about is making you suffer."

Wat took out his nightstick, flipped it in his hand, and looked at it for a moment. "I do believe I've made a Turk," he declared, as though speaking to it. His eyes flickered to Reno. "We'll see who suffers more before this ends!" He lowered the nightstick and charged.

Reno had been ready for this and threw himself to the side. He stumbled but managed to catch himself, whirling around just in time to meet Wat's wild swing with the weapon. The nightstick caught him across the face, searing the skin. Reno cried out in pain and dropped to his knees, hurled himself blindly at Wat's legs. There was a heavy thump as the older man fell. Reno scrambled to his feet and backed away a bit, hitting the desk. Taking his eyes off Wat for just a moment, he groped along the desk for some kind of weapon. Files…paper...nothing. 

His attention stupidly diverted, Reno suddenly realized Wat wasn't on the floor anymore. As soon as that thought hit him he felt a presence immediately behind him. Before he could dodge, the nightstick slammed down on his skull. Reno lurched away, his vision blurring. The blows came again, faster now, too fast for him to form any kind of counterattack. Just when he thought he'd collapse, the weapon jabbed him in the gut and stayed there, sending waves of pain humming through his body. Not able to take anymore, Reno hunched over the nightstick, exhausted, oblivious to his own hoarse shouts, oblivious to anything but the pain. He waited for unconsciousness to take him, but it wouldn't come. 

"Do you know how satisfying it would be to kill you right now, Reno?" Wat growled, increasing the pressure until Reno thought he would break into a million pieces. "I've always enjoyed myself when torturing you…after all, a 'twisted bastard' like me would have to enjoy it…but I really do think this is a high point in the time we've spent together. You know how good it feels to be on this end of the nightstick, don't you?" He leaned closer. "You know…you enjoy it, too. When you trained Tseng…the sight hurt to watch, it was so beautiful. You handle this thing masterfully, because you know how to cause the most pain. You didn't hold back then-"

"-And I won't hold back now!" Reno gasped, fighting to get the words out. Gritting his teeth against the intensity of the pain, he placed both hands on the vibrating weapon and gave a sharp jerk, pulling it away from Wat. Despite his blistering hands, he grinned at the shaken look on the other's face.

"Time for payback," he hissed, flipping the nightstick so he could hold it by the "good end". 

Reno did thorough job. It was exactly like it had been with Tseng, but this time Rude wasn't there to stop him. This time he went all-out. When it was finally over, Wat was on the floor, covered with blood.

"I really must…congratulate you," Wat said, speaking in sharp gasps. "No one's been able to make me scream like that…since Kaiser…"

Reno squatted down and looked at him coldly. "I think maybe I'll kill you now."

"Please do."

"What's that?" Reno cupped a hand to his ear, his tone turning scornful. "Did I just hear you beg for death?"

A thin stream of blood dribbled from the corner of Wat's mouth as he let out a wracking laugh. "Reno, I've been hoping for death for a good long time before I met you." 

Gripped by anger, Reno grabbed Wat by his bloodstained collar and hauled him up with inhuman strength. "Then why didn't you kill yourself and do the whole fucking world a favor?" he spat. "Maybe I would've had some semblance of a life if you hadn't come along!"

Wat gave a sad sort of smile. "You know, I don't really know why I never considered suicide…" He paused for a moment, as though thinking. "I guess…I guess I was just hoping for a day when it would stop…hurting…"

Enraged, Reno shoved the end of his nightstick in Wat's mouth. "Does it hurt worse now?!" he screamed. "Does it? Maybe it'll stop hurting when I take this thing away! Did you ever think of that?! You goddamned son of a bitch! Did you think it would stop hurting when you pulled me off the streets and made me turn out like you? Or how about when you were fucking Lynn? Did it stop hurting then?!"

Reno ranted for some time, and he would never reveal what he had shouted, although he later told Rude most of what transpired in the little office of Death Row. Toward the end, Wat twitched uncontrollably, drooling and mumbling, and Reno laughed at the sight in between tirades. His laugh was mirthless, cold, and malicious. 

When at last he was through raving, Reno threw Wat to the floor, then pressed his shaking hands to his head, trying to regain control of himself. It was just like with Tseng- he'd lost it then, too. He wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't anymore. Losing himself in that fit of violence…it was awful. 

At last composed, he looked down at the still body of Wat. Reno wasn't sure how long he stood there, just staring. Wat was dead.

They say when a man kills another, he's lost a part of himself that can never be replaced. Not so with Reno. Whatever that part of him was, he'd lost it already. He knew it hadn't been when he'd killed his father. That guy hadn't been a real human anyway. And afterwards, he'd felt his share of remorse and guilt…not like this horrible emptiness he felt now. Maybe it had happened when he'd tortured Tseng…maybe when he'd made that conscious decision to kill Wat. Maybe it had been when he'd slit the throat of Mrs. Swaney's goddamned cat…

Reno stared a moment more, then used his thumb to switch off the nightstick. He held it in his hands a moment, unsure of what to do with it. It would make sense to leave it with Wat, wouldn't it?

But Reno knew he couldn't do that. The thing was a part of him, now, as much as his skin or his red hair. He couldn't leave the weapon behind.

Without a last look, he turned his back on Wat and left the room. And, despite his innermost fears and own horror at what he'd done, it took him a long time to get the sadistic grin off of his face. 

~

Meanwhile, Rude stared at Kaiser, trying to forget the still form of Lynn at his feet. The rain pounded incessantly, thankfully washing the blood off her. Rude didn't know why, but for some reason to think of her lying in the mud like that…part of his mind couldn't comprehend it. It was the part that kept comparing him to an assassin…a killer. He wanted to leave, go far away so he wouldn't have to look at Lynn's body anymore.

However, his mission wasn't completed yet. He still had to deal with Kaiser, who was looking at Rude as though he was the lowest piece of scum on the Planet.

"You've failed." Kaiser's voice was flat. "I had high hopes for you, Rude."

Rude's hands clenched into fists. "What are you going to do now?"

Kaiser smiled abruptly, and suddenly Rude was quite afraid of him. As Reno had said, the guy was frickin' _nuts_. Unlike Wat, who sometimes seemed human, there was no reasoning with Kaiser. There was no alternative to death.

When he spoke, Rude abandoned all hope that the man was sane. "You failed. I have no choice but to execute you."

The way he spoke didn't make it sound like a boast, or a threat, or anything else like that. Kaiser stated it like simple fact.

As he stood there, frozen with fear, Kaiser unexpectedly closed the distance between them. The Turk's hand shot out, grabbed Rude by the collar, and yanked him close.

"This is going to be a pleasure," he whispered, flipping a knife in his other hand. 

It occurred to Rude that he was about to die. Maybe he deserved it, after what he'd done to Lynn. But…to die like this? By letting Kaiser win? Lynn wouldn't want that, she'd want him to fight. Even though she'd given up herself. Now that he thought about it, that made her kind of a hypocrite.

But Reno would be very pissed off if he came out of the building and found Rude dead. Rude could already imagine his reaction. 

_You moron, Rude! Why didn't you fight back?_

If he was going to fight, now was the time. 

As Kaiser brought the knife close, Rude jerked, as though he was about to kick him, then knocked his arm into Kaiser's. The knife actually made a slashing cut on the its holder's own chin. Twisting furiously, Rude managed to drop out of Kaiser's grip, landing in the mud beside Lynn. Rather than waste time getting to his feet, he threw a handful of sludge into Kaiser's eyes, than ducked out of the way. Kaiser took a step, but slipped in the muck and fell, the knife dropping from his hand. 

Enraged, Kaiser kicked at Rude, hitting him in the side of the head. Rude fell back. He tried to get up, tried to regain his scattered senses, but Kaiser was suddenly there. Rude gave a weak swing that Kaiser evaded easily. The Turk grabbed his arms and forced down in the mud, pinning him. 

"It's hard to believe that Tseng was the only successful Turk out of the four of you," Kaiser said softly. "You had potential, Rude, you really did."

Struggling madly, Rude's fingers encountered something hard amidst all the mud. Was it…?

"After all, I picked you out myself. Four…maybe five years ago, wasn't it?"

That was it? It had seemed like a lifetime ago. Four or five years…he'd practically been a kid then. He'd never really had a father, or if he did, he couldn't remember. When he came to live at Death Row, he'd started to model himself after Tseng, who from the beginning was always calm and collected.

Kaiser hadn't stolen four or five years from him. He'd stolen something else, something infinitely more precious.

His fingers curled around the object in the mud with resolve. The kid he'd been, the Rude of five years ago…he was gone. Another Rude, Rude the Turk, had risen up to take his place.

Bringing the gun up quickly, Rude fired. He shot five bullets…one for each year of life Kaiser had taken away. There was no hope for the Turk, not at that range. Kaiser jerked madly at first, like a fish on dry land…twisting and writhing for air. Repulsed, Rude leaned back, averting his eyes from the sight. When Kaiser finally stopped moving, Rude shoved him off and slowly got to his feet.

Kaiser lay on his back, close to Lynn's body. His face was a gruesome mask of filth and blood. It was strange. Rude could still see Lynn alive, despite the bullet hole in her chest. But Kaiser…he was dead. Rude wouldn't ever remember him as anything but the way he was now, beaten and bloody on the ground at his feet. 

Rude lifted the Death Penalty and looked at it. Somehow, it seemed fitting that he'd killed Kaiser with the same weapon he'd killed Lynn. Ironically fitting.

Rude heard the mud squelch as someone walked up behind him, but didn't turn. He knew it was Reno.

"We're free." Reno nudged Kaiser's body with the toe of his boot. He smiled dryly. "Hope he likes Hell."

Rude didn't take his eyes off the Death Penalty. For some reason, the weapon seemed grimly fascinating. "Wat?"

"He's finished," Reno said grimly. His eyes strayed to Lynn, and he put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry, man."

Rude didn't answer, still fingering the gun in his hand.

A loud ringing sound suddenly filled the air. Reno nearly shouted, he was so startled. "The hell is that?"

"It's coming from him." Rude tilted his head toward Kaiser's body. 

Cursing, Reno bent and searched the dead Turk, finally locating a PHS in the jacket pocket. The ringing didn't stop. Reno hesitated a moment, considering, then put the receiver to his ear.

"Who is this?"

"Reno?" The reception was fuzzy, but a man's voice came through clearly. "Reno, is that you?"

Reno looked at Rude, who shrugged. The redhead spoke into the mouthpiece again. "Yeah, it's me. Who're you?"

"It's Tseng."

Looking surprised, Reno covered the mouthpiece and looked at Rude again. "What's he calling Kaiser for?"

Rude wiped a hand over his face. The rain was finally starting to slow up. "He's a Turk. Of course he'd keep in contact with the other Turks."

"Reno?" Tseng sounded annoyed. "Put Kaiser on the line."

Reno eyed Kaiser's body. "Uh…that's kind of…impossible."

"Reno, what's going on over there?"

"Tseng…he's dead."

There was a long pause. "Could you repeat that?"

"Kaiser's dead. Wat, too."

Tseng said a word neither Reno nor Rude had ever been able to picture Tseng saying. "When did this happen?"

"After Rude…after Lynn died."

There was another pause. "Rude's there, too?"

"Yeah."

"I'll come over with a chopper to pick you two up. You guys can explain then."

"Hang on a minute, alright?" Reno said, covering the receiver again. He let out a breath, then turned to Rude. "Shit, man. We're finally getting out of here."

Rude said nothing. Now that the day had arrived, it wasn't anything like he'd thought it would be. He wasn't sure what he'd expected to feel, but it hadn't been this. He wasn't happy, or relieved, or anything like that. He was empty inside, frozen. Maybe a part of him had died with Kaiser…or Lynn.

Reno was talking to Tseng again. "Okay, hurry up. We'll be waiting." He seemed about to hang up, then added, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and Tseng?"

"What?"

"Bring the kerosene." 

~

Rude ground his last cigarette into the mud with his heel, wishing he could grind away the memories the same way. He checked his watch with a sigh. It really was getting late. Maybe he should go get Reno before he fell asleep on the bar counter…

He turned and stepped into the bar again, hoping to keep his mind on the present, this time. He slid onto the bar stool beside his friend and opened his mouth to tell him they had to leave. Instead, something else came out, addressing the barkeep.

"Give me another shot."

The memories still refused to let him go…

~

Rude stood on flat runners of the chopper, clutching the side with one arm as he watched the destruction of Death Row. Flickering flames licked the sky…almost like the flailing hands of a drowning victim. Ignoring the building's pleas for mercy, the helicopter took flight, leaving it behind.

After hanging up on Tseng, Reno and Rude had taken Lynn's body and laid her on the small pallet in her cell. Somehow, leaving her there in the mud hadn't seemed right. Unlike Wat and Kaiser, Lynn deserved respect. Even if she couldn't have a real funeral, they would lay her to rest in their own way.

Rude watched the flames until the chopper left them behind, and even the smoke lay beyond his view. "Goodbye," he whispered.

Reno climbed out to stand beside him. "C'mon, man," he urged, yelling over the roar of the wind. "It's gone. We're through with that life. Just forget it."

Rude pulled the Death Penalty from where he'd tucked it in his belt and looked at it for a moment, running his fingers over the cold metal surface. He knew he would never fire it again. The weapon was tainted now. He didn't want to remember that it had even existed. That Lynn had even existed.

And besides…he really didn't need a momento to remember Death Row. He already had one.

His right hand, the one clutching the gun, was enclosed in a black, armor-backed glove. It hadn't looked right, dead Kaiser wearing the accessory. After all, it was a very nice glove. And Rude had always preferred fighting with his fists over using a gun.

Suddenly deciding something, he whipped his arm back and threw the Death Penalty as far as he could. It seemed to hang in the air for a moment, as though to let him have a last look, then plummeted down to splash in a small lake below. Rude watched the lake until it regained its crystal serenity, then ducked back inside the helicopter. Reno followed.

Tseng, sitting in the front seat next to the pilot, turned to look at them. "I still can't believe you guys did it."

Reno had told him the whole story. Tseng had made no comment throughout the narrative, seemingly deep in thought. Now he appeared to have reached a decision. The two escapees waited silently.

"Alright," Tseng said at last. "I think I know what to do. I'll pull a few strings, put in a good word for you two. I really don't think this has ever happened before, but the Company will still accept you."

"'Accept us'?" Reno echoed, looking suspicious. "What are you talking about?"

Tseng shrugged. "You want to be Turks or not?"

Turks? Rude and Reno stared at each other. Neither had really thought beyond their escape, certainly not to the point of what they'd do about occupation. Neither really wanted to go back to a life on the streets. It wasn't their environment anymore. Rude wasn't quite sure where he or Reno belonged anymore.

Reno ran a hand through his hair, giving Tseng a sideways glance. "How's the pay?"

Tseng smiled. "Let's just say you'll retire early."

Rude shrugged when Reno looked his way. "Why not?"

Reno suddenly laughed. "What the hell! Sign us up!"

Tseng gave a nod. "Good." Then he gave them each a look of disgust. "But you two are in desperate need of new uniforms."

He was right. Rude knew he was filthy with mud and blood, although Reno was a good sight worse. You'd have thought he'd taken a bath in red. When Tseng had first seen him, he'd asked where Reno was hurt. The redhead had then coolly stated that the blood was Wat's, not his own. 

"Say, Tseng," Reno said amiably. "Did you ever find that chick you like?"

Tseng gave a visible jolt of shock, but that was all. Rude had never seen the man lose composure, and he didn't now. Tseng stared straight ahead, looking at something none of the others could see.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Reno." His voice was soft. "Don't waste my time with stupid questions."

Surprised, Reno shrugged, then leaned back in his seat. No one said anything else until they arrived at the Shinra building. The pilot turned to Tseng. "We're here, Sir."

Tseng seemed to rouse himself out of a kind of trance. He swung open the door and leapt onto the cement surface of the Shinra building's roof. Reno and Rude followed.

Tseng waved the pilot off, then turned to them. "Well. I guess this is it." He smiled, but the expression seemed forced. "You're Turks." 

~

Rude stared at the untouched glass in front of him, then looked up at Reno, only to find the other man staring at him. And then, just for a second, he could have sworn that he saw the moment in Reno's eyes as well. 

****

And now, a note from the author!

Sorry about the long wait. As you can guess, this chap took some time. Had to make it all perfect for you guys. ^^ Also sorry about the drama overload, if it's too much, just tell me. Also, there's more to the story than you may realize, so don't flame me just yet… 

Oh yeah! And the materia thing? Uhm…had to change it so the Turks couldn't use materia. (If you look back in earlier chaps you'll see Kaiser has changed his mind about letting Reno use it) Rosa caught that little error…pointing out that if materia could make him all better, why didn't Reno just use some when he was injured in the fight with AVALANCHE? Well, I don't know, so I made up the reason that Turks didn't bother with materia because only the weak need it. As for the fights in the game? O_o…I don't think they've used materia yet, so when we get to the point when they do…I'll make up a reason! 

Yeah, I'm babbling. Please review!

~Lila 


	10. One of Those Nights

One of Those Nights

Reno and Rude left the bar late, late enough that Rude knew work would be killer tomorrow. But at the moment, he didn't care. Of course, he was more than a little drunk.

He and Reno hadn't spoken of the memories that both had shared. Instead, they had drunk themselves into mind-numbing stupors, drowned themselves in intoxicating poison. Rude had covered the bill, despite Reno's bitching. Rude knew his friend would never accept charity, even though he drank well more than he could afford.

They were heading toward the train station, where Rude lived. He would take the train back to Sector 4. The city of Midgar was divided into 8 sectors, all of which depended on Shinra, Inc, for energy.

Seven sectors now, actually. Following Heidegger's orders, Reno had made a carefully-planned strategic move that had resulted in near-disaster. A bomb had been set in one of the support structures of the upper plate. The plan had been to drop the plate on Sector 7, the sector believed to house AVANLANCHE headquarters. Reno had detonated the bomb, blowing the plate support to smithereens. As a result, the plate had fallen and crushed Sector 7- and its residents. It had been there, at the support, that the escaped members of AVALANCHE had found Reno and nearly killed him.

Rude glanced at Reno. His arm still hung in a sling. His mind flashed back to when he had found his friend, collapsed at the foot of the pillar. The sight of Reno's mangled body had been enough to shake even Rude. 

It was kind of sad, though. Any other man might have enjoyed the long leave of absence Reno had received, but the fiery Turk had the opposite reaction, insisting he was fine for work. But Tseng had been firm. Rude knew Reno didn't give two shits about work; that Reno just hadn't been looking forward to long hours spent at the bar. Reno wasn't stupid, he knew he wasn't helping himself by drinking his life away. Of course, it was probable that Reno didn't want to help himself. Maybe he preferred trying to forget everything. 

As they finally reached the train station, Rude sighed and leaned against the railing. The train stations in Midgar weren't really stations. This one was a mere platform overlooking the now-empty tracks, with nothing but a railing over the side to prevent anyone jumping down. Rude didn't know why they bothered. If anyone was suicidal enough to jump in front of an oncoming train, a three-foot little railing wasn't about to stop him.

He checked his watch again impatiently. It was past time for the train to show up. He knew he hadn't missed it; this train was always late. Except now it was really late. 

Rude looked over at Reno curiously. It was unusual for the redhead to be quiet for such a long period of time, especially after drinking. "What is it?"

Reno came over to lean beside him, staring down at the empty tracks. "Just thinking about Lynn."

Rude's hands tightened on the rail. He'd been right; Reno had been thinking about the end of Death Row, too.

Reno suddenly looked up, staring at Rude with his bright sea-green eyes. "You loved her, didn't you?" he said, almost accusingly, still staring at Rude as though trying to figure him out.

Rude let out a long, slow breath, peeling his hands from the railing. "What makes you say that?"

Reno gave him an even look. "When you shot her. You were mumbling to yourself, that you were sorry and you loved her, over and over. Did you think I wouldn't hear?"

Rude was silent, looking out at the empty tracks again. He had no recollection of mumbling _anything _back then, but he didn't doubt Reno. Those exact words…he'd been thinking them, hopefully, desperately, as though they would save him. And her. He didn't remember speaking them aloud.

"What were you for sorry for, Rude?" Reno was still staring at him like that, quizzically. "Sorry for all she'd been through?"

Rude shook his head wordlessly. It had always been impossible to hide things from Reno.

"Were you sorry because you were afraid you were going to miss?" Reno's voice was quiet. "Because you knew you were going to miss?"

"I didn't miss," Rude whispered to the empty air. For a moment, it seemed his words echoed back to him, then silence reigned once more.

Reno broke it. "Rude…"

Rude whirled around to face him. "What would you have done?" he demanded. "She wanted to die, Reno, she told me so herself! She wanted a way out." His voice was quieter now, calmer. "I didn't want to do it, but I gave her one."

Reno didn't reply at first, lost in his own memories. At last he merely shook his head. "Think they'll ever let us go?"

He was speaking of all three of them, Wat, Lynn, and Kaiser. The three who had died that day, but still lived on in memory and in mind. Rude knew he wouldn't ever forget them, Lynn especially. He'd thought about her a lot, even today, even before Reno had brought up the past. 

Not far out in the distance, a train's whistle pierced the still air, the tranquillity of the moment. The wobbly platform shook slightly as the train thundered toward them. 

For the first time since leaving the bar, Rude realized with some surprise that he now felt perfectly clear-headed. His talk with Reno had sobered him up a good deal, and he now thought with cold clarity.

"I'll get your pay from Tseng tomorrow," he said, as he sought to change the subject. 

"Thanks."

The train slid to a halt and a conductor leaped out, yanked open the gate, and recited, rather breathlessly, "Welcome to Midgar Public Transport. Thank you for taking the one o'clock train, we hope your experience on our rail system is comfortable and enjoyable, that will be five hundred gil, if you please." He held out a white-gloved hand expectantly. 

Rude slowly glanced at his watch, then at the eager young conductor. He couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen years old. "What train is this?"

"I just told you," the kid said with a trace of impatience. "It's the one o'clock train, the last run of the day-" Suddenly he noticed the telltale blue uniform, the dark shades. "…Sir," he added faintly. 

"The one o'clock train," Reno repeated, gliding forward to stand next to his partner. The boy jumped like a scared rabbit. He hadn't seen the second Turk, cloaked in darkness as he' d been. 

"Hey, Rude," Reno said, as though the idea had just occurred to him. "What time is it?"

Rude dutifully checked his watch. "Looks to me like it's a little after one." He looked pointedly at the young conductor. "Like forty-five minutes after one."

"That's odd. I thought he said this was the one o'clock train." Reno looked perplexed. 

Rude smiled disarmingly at the young man. "Maybe his watch is broken. Hey, kid, what time do you have?"

"One…one forty-two, Midgar Standard Time." The kid looked ready to faint. 

"Look at that, Rude," Reno observed. "And the kid thinks he's better at telling time than you."

The conductor seemed to have recovered a bit from his shock, especially since this particular Turk seemed injured. He even straightened his back a bit and stiffly said, "Sir, have you been drinking?"

Reno smiled. "Now there's a stupid question." Suddenly tiring of the game, he turned and walked off the platform. "Enjoy work tomorrow, Rude," he said over his shoulder. 

Rude nodded in reply and started to board the train, but the conductor put out his hand again. "The fare, please, sir?" he said weakly.

Rude shoved him aside. "Tell your manager if he wants pay, he'll be on time." It wasn't very nice, but then, the Turks were never nice. The kid would know that if he wasn't so green.

The car wasn't crowded, holding only a few slum drunks and one Shinra employee who sat muttering to himself. There was also that nut that rode on every train ride, insisting the car was his home, but he was hardly a new passenger. They all looked up when Rude boarded, then averted their eyes quickly. 

Rude sat in the nearest empty seat, close to a window. He always felt better near a window when in tight, claustrophobic areas. It was a natural feeling, when you've spent years in Death Row. Not that the scenery outside the window was particularly pleasant –Midgar was one giant garbage dump seething with rats dressed in business suits, whores, cutthroats and drunks.

Rude sometimes wondered what he and Reno would've become if they hadn't been selected to be Turks. Decent, respectable men with high salaries? Not likely, in Midgar. More likely they would've faded into the city's grim backdrop of crime, poverty, and booze.

He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, thinking about everything that had happened a bare twenty-four hours ago. 

After Reno had successfully blown up the Plate, he was dismissed and sent home to rest up. Reno, in true Reno fashion, had refused the helpful powers of materia, even though Rude suspected Tseng would have bent Turk ordinance a bit for the redhead.

Although things were chaotic for a bit, within a few hours things settled down around Headquarters. Rude had spent the better part of the evening watching television in the staffroom. 

Then AVALANCHE had arrived.

Cloud Strife, Barret Wallace, Tifa Lockheart. Rude had later found out that it hadn't been a planned attack. The resistance factor had actually been on a rescue mission, to save the newly-captured Aeris Gainsborough. Tseng had brought her in not long after the Plate collapsed, and delivered her to the Science Department.

To make a long story short, the little group had wrecked havoc throughout the HQ, and the Turks had been forced to take action. But without Reno, Rude and Tseng hadn't had the manpower needed, and AVALANCHE had escaped with Gainsborough and another specimen. This had prompted Heidegger to hire Elena, although Rude had the sneaking suspicion that she would be of more harm than help.

He thought of Reno's reaction to his "replacement", as the fiery redhead had called Elena. Reno hadn't been happy at all, but immediately wanted to know if they were going to train her the same way they had been trained. Rude rubbed his head tiredly. He'd been about to. He'd been about to hurt that innocent girl. It had been a preplanned, conscious decision, even to the point of hiring gunmen to help overpower her. He wasn't sure, exactly, why he'd done it. He hadn't actually thought about the moral of the situation, he had just followed simple procedure. And, brutal as the method was, it certainly was efficient. Truth of the matter was, Turks were killers with salaries. You didn't learn to be one just by watching. 

But Tseng, apparently, had other plans for Elena. Rude guessed what he said made sense; they needed more manpower _now_. Still, Elena didn't have the slightest clue as to what the Turks were all about. If she stayed permanently, she would have a real eye-opener before long.

Rude sat up straighter as the train slowed and finally stopped. The same young, nervous conductor came to the front of the car. "Unloading for Sector 8," he announced. 

Rude stood and started down the center aisle to the exit door. As he passed two drunks whispering together, something caught his attention.

"What about the _Seventh Heaven_?"

"Can't go there no more. Was in Sector 7. Y'know, the one that was crushed."

"Oh yeah. What was that barmaid's name? Lockheart?"

"Tifa Lockheart. She owned the place. Why?"

Rude stopped cold and listened. 

"She's a member of that group. You know, the AVALANCHE organization." The man scratched his rust-colored beard as he spoke.

The other guffawed. "Her? Come on! You see the tits on that girl? What does she do, cook for the rebel leader?" He grinned. "Or sleep with him?" 

The first shook his head. "Naw, she's got it bad for that other guy, Strife. 'Sides, she can handle herself. I saw her fight once. Knocked some guy clear over the counter."

"Sir?" the conductor said tentatively. "Are you getting off?"

Rude roused himself and stepped off the train. As he went by the conductor, the young man shrank back, as though fearful Rude would kill him as an afterthought. Or something.

As he walked along the dark road that led to the apartment he resided in, Rude thought. Finally, he could focus on that little thing that had been hanging at the back of his mind all day.

Tifa Lockheart. When he'd first seen her, he'd thought of her as a typical slums woman, fighting to save the Planet from the clutches of Shinra, Inc. Typical environmentalist, sadly idealistic. Pretty girl, though. What a waste.

Then, as he'd grabbed hold of her to drag her off to the holding cell, their eyes met. She couldn't see his reaction, of course, since he wore his shades and because Rude never let emotion register of his face. But it had hit him like a blow in the gut. He knew her. Even now, after all these years, even when it was utterly impossible, he knew her.

Lynn had looked out those eyes at him.

The hair, the body, the way she spoke was different. But her eyes were the same. He couldn't explain how he knew; he'd just _felt_ her presence in that moment.

She'd broken it by struggling furiously to get away, but in his moment of shock Rude kept a firm grip on her shoulders. Since it was beyond belief, beyond all reason, he'd followed orders and thrown her into the holding cell along with Strife. Then he'd tried to dismiss it as simple hallucination, a fantasy brought on by overwork and booze and lack of sleep. But that moment had stayed with him all night, the next day, until even now, roughly twenty-four hours later. He knew he had to see her again, or at least find some logical explanation for this. Or it would drive him crazy; the guilt would drive him crazy.

Unless it already had. 

~

It was still dark when he arrived at work the following morning. Rude had spent a sleepless night – well, more like a few hours –at home before arriving at a decision. He would conduct a little background research.

The secretary let him in, yawning because of the early hour. Only a few workaholics were here now. Rude guessed even Tseng was still asleep, either at home or at his desk. Of course, if that was the case, he'd have a few questions to answer. 

He was lucky. The Turk staffroom was empty when he slipped in. He could work undisturbed.

He stepped to the huge file cabinet in the back of the room and opened the drawer marked "H-L". Inside of the drawer were several alphabetized manila folders containing files on those Shinra had deemed it prudent to keep an eye on. They were kept in the Turk staffroom for unknown purposes- probably because there was no room anywhere else. 

At last he found the file reading "Lockheart, Tifa." He pulled it from the drawer and sat on the tattered couch, opening the folder. Inside were two pages of report, one dated five years later than the other. Paperclipped to each report was a photo of the subject at the time.

He looked at the older file. The picture showed a younger Tifa, probably fourteen or fifteen years old. She was an innocent, happy child, still naïve to the world and its sorrows. He skimmed the report, not expecting to find anything interesting. 

Subject Name: Lockheart, Tifa.

Subject Age: 15

History: Subject became involved with Shinra, Inc. during the Nibelheim Incident, when she led four Shinra employees, including Sephiroth, through the Nibel Mountains to the reactor. Sephiroth later went insane and destroyed the town of Nibelheim. Lockheart interfered and attacked him. Sephiroth nearly killed her. In fact, Lockheart was at first believed to be dead when found, but she recovered and departed. Hasn't been seen since.

So she'd been involved in the Sephiroth incident. Rude knew little about what had happened then, as it had occurred before he'd escaped from Death Row. Sephiroth, general of Shinra's military corps at the time, had lost his mind and burned down the small town of Nibelheim in a fit of violence. Nearly all town residents had been killed. If she'd survived, Tifa had been lucky indeed. From what Rude knew of Sephiroth, not many who'd crossed him had lived.

He studied the picture again. It had obviously been taken before Sephiroth had destroyed her hometown. She was younger then, true, but there was still something missing from her face. Her very expression seemed different, different from what he'd seen. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but it wasn't in the Tifa of five years ago. He picked up the other file.

This photo was obviously more recent. It wasn't a good picture, just a quick snap of her when she wasn't expecting it. Her long dark hair whipped across her shocked face. She had apparently been in the act of turning, maybe to put a hand over the camera.

The file was dated this year. 

Subject Name: Tifa Lockheart

Subject Age: 20

History: Subject was recently found in Midgar. Owns the Seventh Heaven bar in Sector 7. Has been active in numerous terrorist bombings as a member of the rebel group AVALANCHE. (See Wallace, Barret, and Strife, Cloud). 

Rude stopped. Strife too? He hadn't actually met the guy, but he'd seen him. And heard of him. Rumor was he'd been a former employee of Shinra, too.

He finished the report, most of which was mainly details to her appearance and background information mentioned in the other file. Then he took both photos and held them up, side by side.

The differences were subtle, but they were there. Her face had matured, grown careworn with the problems and struggles of life in the city. Her stance had become solid, her countenance surer. The recent photo didn't have a good angle, but there was a glimpse of her eyes, frozen in time. Rude stared into them, trying to see the woman behind the gaze.

It was there. Somehow, he saw Lynn there…in the glare of her eyes, in the set of her mouth. She was there.

He unclipped the recent picture from the file and slipped it in his pants pocket, then replaced the files in the manila folder. After he'd placed the file back in the drawer, he opened another and pulled out a different folder. 

Strife, Cloud.

This one also had two reports; one from five years ago, one more recent, each with a photo. The first he glanced at momentarily, then tossed aside. The second he studied a moment longer.

Strife had blond hair that stuck straight up on his head and bright, almost glowing, blue eyes. Rude felt an odd sensation, looking at him, almost as though Cloud was an old friend he'd forgotten about. The first picture hadn't made him feel that way, but then, the first picture showed him asleep.

Asleep? Rude looked again. In the photo, Strife was lying on a hospital bed with his eyes closed. His skin had a ghastly grey color, and, when closely inspected, it became apparent the blue guard's uniform he wore was dark with blood. To all appearances, he looked dead.

When he'd finished reading the reports, he fumbled for his cigarettes and lit one with shaky fingers. Rude was not a heavy smoker, but he'd found of late that an extra pack was coming in handy.

A theory was beginning to form in his mind. It was still incredibly far-fetched, but it made sense, in a weird sort of way. Of course, he had no evidence, no hard proof. And even if it was true, what was he supposed to do? Tell the others? Reno would only laugh; Tseng would assume he'd been drinking. It was pointless.

Rude checked his watch. Tseng would be arriving for work soon. He wouldn't have time to find evidence. But Reno would. He pulled out his PHS and dialed. It was a good long time (Rude counted nineteen rings) before a groggy voice finally answered.

"You've got the wrong fuckin' number," Reno snarled. 

"It's Rude. Look, I need you to do me a favor." 

"Rude? Do you have the slightest idea what time it is?" Reno yelled into the receiver.

"Believe me, I know. Come on, Reno. This is important."

"More important than my recovery?" At least he sounded calmer. "This had better be an easy favor."

"I need you to come to Headquarters and get me some information."

Reno's tone was flat. "Rude, the only plus about my getting my ass kicked by those guys was the fact that I get to stay _away_ from that place. Now you want me to waste precious energy getting there?"

"It's important," Rude repeated. "I need you to ask Hojo what he knows about Tifa Lockheart, Cloud Strife, and Sephiroth." 

"Hojo?" Reno sounded skeptical. "The head of the Science Department?"

"That's him."

"Creepy guy," Reno said. "Don't trust him. Why do you want me to talk to him?"

"Please, Reno," Rude said patiently. "Just do it."

He could practically see Reno's scowl. "All right. All right, but you're buying the next drink."

"Fine." Rude switched off the PHS and tucked it away. He knew he could count on Reno, although the redhead would make sure tonight's bill would be a large one.

He glanced through the last two folders one more time before returning them to the file cabinet. As he slammed the door shut, the door to the staffroom opened. Rude froze.

Tseng stumbled in, rubbing his eyes with his fist. Rude stayed hidden in the shadows in the back of the room as his leader shuffled to the couch and practically fell onto it, closing his eyes wearily. 

Rude smiled to himself and quietly made his way to the door, thinking about how pissed off Reno would be that he'd missed seeing "the Ripper" like this. As he went by, Tseng groaned and said, "That you, Rude?"

Rude stopped. "…..Yeah." Uh-oh.

Tseng didn't open his eyes. "Would you please…" He stopped for a moment, as though to gather his thoughts. "…Get me a cup of coffee?"

Coffee sounded like a good idea right now. For both of them. "One of those nights, huh, Tseng?"

Tseng heaved a sigh. "Yeah. I've been working steadily for two days. Those clowns weren't doing us any favors when they invaded, I'll tell you that. Did you know that two of them were involved in the Nibelheim Incident? Cloud Strife and-"

"Tifa Lockheart," Rude finished. "I know." He opened the door. "I'll get you some coffee."

"Thanks."

He stepped out the door and closed it, mulling over his luck. At least Tseng had been too groggy to ask Rude why he was four hours early for work.

~

"Stupid Rude," Reno muttered as he stomped into the Shinra building. "Stupid Tseng, stupid…" What was that woman's name? The one replacing him? He couldn't remember. "Stupid chick."

A passing young secretary gave him a dirty look, as though she had the slightest clue as to what he was going on about.

"I wasn't talking about _you_," Reno snarled at the little ditz. She took in the uniform, the red hair, the injuries and the pissed-off look on his face, then scurried off.

Reno snorted in disgust. With the way the system was collapsing, for all he knew _she _could be the next new Turk. Heidegger was just that frickin' stupid. 

It was late morning by now, and the halls were crowded with Shinra employees. Several stopped to stare, but didn't look for long. Like the secretary, they quickly decided he wasn't worth messing with. He made his way to Science Department unharassed. 

As he rode the elevator up to the research lab, Reno actually took a moment to straighten his jacket. It was open, of course, over an untucked white shirt that was only half-buttoned. He wore no tie. Old habits died hard. It drove Tseng up the wall, but what was he going to do about it? Reno had already completed his training, in a sense. He could kill people as easily as anybody else.

The elevator ground to a halt and Reno stepped out. Whiteness assaulted his eyes. Bright lights. Machines humming. The lab had a sterilized, scrubbed look that bothered him immensely. Reno liked things to be cluttered and disorganized; he didn't trust the neat and orderly. In his opinion, anyone who spent time _cleaning _had way too much time on his hands.

As he stood there gawking, Professor Hojo himself hurried over. "Yes?" he said shortly. "What can I do for you?"

__

Get a facelift, was Reno's first thought, but he didn't voice it aloud.

Professor Hojo had a long, beakish nose on which rested a pair of tiny oval spectacles. His mouth was thin and leering, and his greasy black hair was pulled back to expose a broad forehead. Surprisingly enough, he was fairly short, more than a head shorter than Reno. His white lab coat was obviously a little big for him; the sleeves had been rolled back to allow for his grasping, twitchy hands. His breathing was funny, too- raspy and fast. All in all, he was, as Reno had said earlier, more than a little "creepy".

"I'm here on Turk business," he said, deciding to immediately establish his authority. "I have-"

"A Turk!" Hojo exclaimed, rubbing his hands together gleefully. His beady little eyes took in Reno's broken arm, along with the rest of his injuries. "I suppose you'll want me to mend you up, eh?" He shot a glance at one particularly nasty cut on Reno's forehead. "Six stitches should do it…" he murmured, tapping a long finger against his front teeth.

"No, no," Reno said hastily. He didn't care _what _medical training Hojo'd had, he still wasn't about to let that freak anywhere near him with surgical tools of any kind. "I have a few questions, that's all."

"I see," Hojo said, looking disappointed. "Mind telling me what this is all about?"

"Yeah, I do," Reno snapped. "All you need to know is that I have alternate methods to getting information, and I don't hesitate to use them." He rested his hand on the nightstick at his belt to enforce his meaning.

"Very well." Hojo smiled unexpectedly, exposing his fang-like teeth. "Ask away."

"What do you know of the incident with Sephiroth? Before he disappeared." 

Hojo linked his hands behind his back and stared up at the ceiling. "Sephiroth was…an enigma," he said softly. "Brilliant, but far, far too forceful."

"Try violent," Reno suggested.

"I was surprised, too, when he destroyed that town," Hojo admitted. "His methods were always…rather extreme."

"Why did he do it?" Reno demanded, already tired of the old guy's rambling.

"I can only speculate, but I presume that was when he discovered he was an experiment." Hojo's thin-lipped smile grew wider.

"An experiment?"

"Yes. Sephiroth was a product of science. Mako and Jenova cells, predominantly."

"Okay…" Reno leaned against a gleaming white counter. "Two things: Isn't mako a power source, and what the hell are Jenova cells?"

Hojo sighed impatiently. "They really need to educate Turks more," he murmured to himself. "All right. You know of the Lifestream theory?"

Reno let his blank expression answer the question for him.

"Then let's go back to the beginning." Hojo stretched his hands out in front of him. "The theory goes like this: All living things, plants, animals, and humans, have souls. When they die, their spirits separate from their bodies and join a swell of spirits, called the Lifestream. The Lifestream provides the fundamental spirit of a new body, be it plant, animal, or human. That's the way of it, although there are exceptions."

"Exceptions?" Reno wanted to know. "Like what?"

"Say you artificially infuse mako- that's the common word for spirit energy- into the body of someone else. It's possible to introduce a spirit into another host, although sometimes unexpected results can result."

Reno stared. "And what do you know of this?"

Hojo waved the question off. "Extensive scientific research, nothing more."

Reno didn't believe him, but let it slide. "And Jenova cells?"

Hojo turned and started toward a row of computers that lined one wall. "Let me show you something."

Reno rubbed his temples as he followed. He needed a drink. Rude was going to owe him big for this one.

The computer screen showed two bar graphs, one above the other. Both showed accumulating data, although the second had a much faster acceleration. 

"And _why_ the hell would I care about this?" Reno said bluntly.

"Allow me to explain. The first graph shows the brain activity of the normal subject, over a time period of eight weeks. The second is the brain activity of a subject enhanced with Jenova cells." Hojo turned from the screen to peer into Reno's face. "It's the same with all aspects of the body- sight, strength, sense of smell and hearing. All are increased by significant amounts." 

"You say 'subjects'." Reno folded his arms. "Like what kind of subjects?"

Hojo busied himself with wiping dust off the monitor. "Oh, these are old. We don't conduct these experiments anymore. We're on to bigger, more advanced-"

"What kind of subjects?" Reno repeated.

Hojo laughed, a high-pitched cackling sound. "What do you take me for, Turk? Lab rats. Mice. I'm a scientist, after all, not a monster. I possess all of the normal human _ethics._" This last word he hissed, spitting it out like a filthy curse.

Reno's tone was skeptical. "You still haven't told me what Jenova cells are."

"It's very simple, actually. Some twenty-odd years ago, the esteemed-" Maybe Reno was imagining it, but he thought he heard a slight sneer in Hojo's voice at that word. "-the esteemed scientist, Professor Gast, discovered a 2000-year old being enclosed in ice in the upper regions of the world. He called that being Jenova."

"Uh-huh." This guy was a real loony. "And what were the origins of this 'being'?" 

Hojo smiled and linked both hands behind his back again. "We still don't know."

He was not asking the right questions, Reno knew. The freaky guy was hiding _something, _that much was obvious. He was too sly, too ready with his responses. And that jab about "ethics"…he had to be hiding something.

"And the incident with Nibelheim," Reno suddenly said, turning to face the scientist. "What was your involvement with that?"

"Nothing," Hojo replied easily. "I had no involvement with that…event."

"Bullshit," Reno snapped. The bastard was lying.

Hojo looked indignant. "I've had enough of this useless prattle," he said sharply. "Either you compose yourself, _Turk_, or-"

"Listen," Reno said coldly. "Either you tell me what I want to hear, or I'll shove one of your fancy microscopes up your ass." Here he paused. "But I think one's already up there. In which case I'll just have to kill ya." He pulled a handgun from his jacket holster and cocked it, turning the muzzle on the scientist's head.

He was scared. Oh yeah, he was scared. "I will not tolerate-" Hojo began, his voice trembling.

"I'll tell you what I won't tolerate: Your frickin' mindless babbling. It's easy. Answer the goddamned question!" Reno had no patience left.

Hojo leaned against the computer, looking down at the floor. His response was strained and quiet. "Shinra arrived on the scene hours after Nibelheim was destroyed," he said softly. "By then the flames had extinguished, the bodies were cold. There wasn't anything left to salvage. The only thing to do was cover it up."

Hojo's eyes looked up to meet the Turk's. "Then, we found something. Outside the reactor was a mako fountain, a small crack in the earth where mako, this 'spirit energy' seeped through. Beside this fountain was the body of a young girl, Tifa Lockheart. Her wounds were severe- so severe, in fact, it seemed she should have bled to death long before we arrived. But she was alive. Not only alive, but had managed to crawl to safety from inside the reactor, where we presume she was stabbed. She lived. Actually she recovered quickly, within a week. She should have died."

Reno nodded. "And Sephiroth?"

Hojo held up a hand. "Wait. I'm getting to that.

"We found the body of another Shinra employee, a SOLDIER by the name of Zack, inside the reactor. He was alive, barely, but alive. He would recover.

"After searching the rest of the building, however, we made a startling discovery. On the bottom-most level of the reactor, we found the bodies of Sephiroth and Cloud Strife, both dead. They'd looked to have impaled each other with their own weapons in a fight to the death."

Reno sighed. Now he _really _needed a drink. "But Cloud Strife is alive."

"Precisely." Hojo smiled once again, looking pleased with himself. "And so is Sephiroth."

"What?" Reno looked up quickly. "Him, too? How?"

Hojo stood, looking away from him. "I think that will be all for today."

Reno grabbed his gun from where he'd placed it near the computer. "You little-"

The elevator door suddenly opened and Tseng stepped out. "Reno?" he said, stopping cold. "What are you doing here?"

Hojo looked more than a little amused while Reno scrambled for words. "Oh…I'm uh, I'm here to…"

"It's quite all right, sir," Hojo said, nodding toward Reno. "He wasn't bothering me at all. Turns out this young Turk is an aspiring scientist."

If Tseng wasn't so damn composed all the time, his jaw would have crashed to the floor. As it was, it dropped a good distance. "A scientist," he repeated.

"Oh, yes. Quite the knowledgeable young man, isn't he?" Hojo smirked and glanced to Reno. "Just now he was showing me how the anti-pressural chambers of a handgun combine force and heat to power a lead bullet through the passage of the barrel and into the heart of one of your less fortunate victims."

"Uh…yeah," Reno said, lowering his gun. "Anti-pressural…chambers…"

Tseng recovered nicely, after a moment. "Reno, get down to the staffroom immediately," he barked, jerking his head toward the elevator. "I'll meet you there after I deliver some papers to Professor Hojo."

__

Sure thing, Errand Boy, Reno thought nastily as he passed "the Ripper." He decided he would follow orders and get to the staffroom. He had a lot to say to Rude.

"Oh, and Turk?" Hojo called after him. Reno stopped but didn't turn.

"What?"

"I'd be careful what I said today," Hojo said with a sneer in his tone. "If you ever want to make it as an _aspiring scientist_."

"Sure thing, Professor," Reno replied as he resumed his journey to the elevator, resisting the urge to turn around and throttle the bastard. "Just don't be surprised if I change my mind." He stepped onto the elevator. Time to find Rude. 

****

~Author's Note~

Still continuing in the same vein, but I interjected some much-needed light-heartedness in places. I sorrie, but I can see Reno pulling a gun on Hojo. Very much.

Anyway, I have noticed some people seem to think the story already ended. Oh, no no no! As you can see by this new chap, I have been tossing about certain ideas for some time, which is why this chapter took so long.

So, whatcha think? Drop me a line through the little review box! ^^

OH! One more thing!!! I'm so excited- this fic got through the Fanfic Approval Committee at IcyBrian's site! WE'RE GOING HOLLYWOOD!! (No, we're not. I just like that phrase.)

Bye! 

~Lila


	11. Delicate Matters

Delicate Matters

The Turk staffroom seemed to be the site of many surprises today, and the new rookie was about to get her share. Elena was just settling down for her morning break when a red-haired man sauntered in, glancing about as if looking for someone. He saw her- she knew he did- but his eyes merely passed through her as though she didn't exist. 

He was tall, but thin, with a laid-back stance that suggested a carefree persona; but there was an intensity about him, especially in his green eyes. Of course, twin scars under each eye may have accentuated the impression… Overall, he was surprisingly good-looking, but definitely dangerous.

He noticed her staring and raised one eyebrow, as though to say, "What are you looking at?" By now his degrading silence was grating on her. She would have to be the first to speak. 

Elena cleared her throat self-consciously and stood up. "May I help you?" she said politely, thinking she sounded much too like a secretary. Maybe he needed help- he looked to be injured.

When he spoke, he sounded scornful. "I'm looking for Rude."

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, realizing who he had to be. "You're Reno, aren't you?" Rude had mentioned earlier his partner might come by, and had instructed her to make sure he didn't leave. 

Reno gave a single nod, a quick jerk of the head. "Yeah."

So he was a Turk. That was surprising; with the state of his uniform, she would have mistaken him for a street punk. Compared with Rude and Tseng, who were always meticulous in their appearance, Reno looked like he'd slept in his clothes. Well, from what she knew of him, maybe he had. 

"Well?" he said impatiently. "Where's Rude?"

"He'll be a few minutes," she replied, sitting back down on the couch. "Have a seat."

He ignored her offer and instead leaned against the wall, watching her carefully. He said nothing, and the oppressive silence began to make Elena uncomfortable. She started talking to fill in the quiet.

"I'm getting used to the job by now," she began, trying to engage Reno in conversation. "It's not that hard, really. Mostly paperwork, but Tseng says we'll be tracking Cloud and the others, too. That's why I was hired, because they're getting too much to handle, with you out of work. But mostly we're going after Sephiroth, because he killed the president and all-"

For the first time, Reno looked interested. "Sephiroth? Who saw him?" he demanded.

Pleased to have finally won a response, Elena said, "I think it was Palmer, head of the Space Exploration Department. He-"

"Palmer," Reno repeated, sounding like he didn't believe it. "That fat tub of lard? Everyone believed him?"

"Someone killed the president," Elena pointed out. "Not to mention many innocent employees."

"Rude didn't mention this," Reno murmured, more than a little pissed off. Elena, of course, didn't know the cause of his obvious anger and assumed it was sorrow for those who had died.

"Yeah, isn't it terrible?" she blurted, talking faster than before. "There was blood everywhere! They even had to get the Turks involved- this was before they asked me to join- to try and hunt them down. But it was useless. Cloud and his pals took advantage of the confusion and escaped-"

"You like to talk, don't you?" Reno interrupted dryly. 

Elena didn't know whether he was angry or amused. "Childhood habit," she admitted, busying her self with straightening her uniform. "It always happens when I'm nervous."

Reno smirked. She and Rude would make the perfect pair- one talked too much, the other rarely said anything at all. "I make you nervous?"

Elena had the idea he was baiting her, and she didn't like it. "I should think you'd make anyone nervous," she snapped. "Just look at the state of your hair! And your uniform!" Good Lord, what had possessed her to say that? The man was dangerous!

Reno slowly looked down at himself, than back at her. His expression was blank. "Your point being?"

"You don't look professional." Elena folded her arms impertinently. "Not at all." 

Reno surprised her by laughing. "Don't you try to talk to me about professionalism, baby," he said languidly, leaning against the wall again.

Elena wasn't sure how to react- no one had ever called her "baby" before. Was it an insult? A come-on? And she still had the impression he was laughing at her.

She suddenly decided she didn't want to talk to him anymore. "I'll…I'll go find Rude," she said hurriedly, stepping to the door. Just as she flung it open, Rude himself strode in.

"Hey, Rude," Reno greeted from his position against the wall. His eyes flickered the Elena. "Just getting to know our new recruit." He winked. "Y'know, I think she kinda likes me. Sorry, babe, but I could never be a one-woman man."

Elena glared at him, spat out, "You jerk!", and stalked out of the room. 

"I said I was sorry!" Reno called after her. 

Rude ignored this and sank down on the couch. "I need some sleep," he muttered, removing his dark lenses. It revealed for once the jagged scar that crossed over his right eye. None of the wounds Kaiser had inflicted- physical and otherwise- had faded or disappeared. They were simply too deep to heal on their own. 

"Well, before you go beddy-bye, maybe you can explain something to me," Reno drawled sarcastically, moving to lean on the back of the couch. 

"Such as?" Rude didn't look at him. 

"Such as why you never told that Sephiroth came and annihilated half our staff!" 

"Because I didn't think you'd care." Rude stopped rubbing his eyes and replaced the shades. 

"I didn't until I talked to Hojo."

Rude stood and turned to face him. "And?"

"I think he's a psycho." Reno yawned. "He was going on about lab rats and the Lifestream and dead guys walked around stabbing people. Why'd you want me to talk to him, anyway?"

"To figure something out."

Reno didn't buy it. "What do you care?"

Rude hesitated. Whether what he suspected was true or not, he had the gut feeling Reno shouldn't know about it. It wouldn't take much to set his friend off, he knew, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see Reno's reaction.

"…I can't tell you just yet," he said at last. "Just take my word for it. I swear, Reno, I would tell you if I could."

Reno sighed. "You don't trust me?"

Rude said nothing. He wasn't going to lie.

"All right, man." Reno shook his head. "Can't really blame you, I wouldn't trust me, either. Just don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"Okay." Rude sat back down. "Now tell me about Hojo."

~

Elena stalked down the hall, still fuming about Reno. Just who did that jerk think he was? She couldn't believe she would have to put up with him- and every day at work! The others were okay: Rude was kind of quiet, but very nice. Tseng was…she didn't know. He seemed to be waiting for her to prove herself to him. He was firm in his expectations, but basically a nice guy. He emitted the kind of aura that made her _want_ to live up to his standards. She was desperate to impress him, to make him see she was right for this job. She knew they all doubted she could handle it, although Rude and Tseng were both too polite to say so. Reno was scornful of her, and had made it plainly obvious. And now she had him to impress as well as Tseng and Rude! 

She sighed irritably and ran her fingers through her blond hair. It was already hopelessly mussed, and it wasn't even noon yet. Come to think of it, she hadn't really done anything all day. A little paperwork, some filing, but nothing that made her feel especially useful. Was this all that the Turks were about? She'd have to ask Tseng if there was something she should be _doing_. 

"Excuse me, Miss?"

She whirled around to face a little man in a white labcoat. It was only then she realized she'd wandered so far down the halls she no longer had any idea where she was. In fact, she was lost. 

The man made a sweeping bow. "I am Professor Hojo. You are a Turk, correct?"

She hated it when people introduced themselves like that, as though she was too inferior to need to know their first name. Patronizing, that was what it was. 

"Yeah, that's correct," she said cautiously. "What's it to you?"

Hojo smiled politely. "I have an assignment for you, if you're interested."

"I take my orders from Tseng," she retorted, turning in another direction. Maybe she could find someone to tell her the way to the staffroom…

"I bring orders from President Rufus." Hojo folded his hands and awaited her response.

Elena blanched. She didn't know much about Rufus- who refused to be called "President Shinra", as it had been the title his father went by- but had heard he could get very nasty if he wasn't obeyed. But why her? Tseng was the leader; why hadn't Professor Hojo gone to him?

"What's this all about?" she said suspiciously.

Hojo glanced about, nervously, she thought. "Perhaps we should go to my lab," he said. "We can discuss the details-"

"No." Elena folded her arms. "We discuss the details here." It felt good, taking a stand. _This _was what being a Turk was all about. Charge, authority. "Is there a problem with that?"

Hojo coughed softly. "It's a rather delicate matter, Miss Elena." 

"Why's that?"

He seemed to decide something and looked her in the eye. "I'll be blunt," he said. "We suspect criminal activity within the company. Specifically, among the Turks."

"Among the Turks?" Elena was shocked. "You must be mistaken."

"I hope I am, my dear, I hope I am," Hojo said gravely. "But I need your help. We believe there may be treachery involved."

"Treachery!" Now Elena was angry. "Tseng and Rude are not traitors!" Reno, on the other hand… "And regardless of whether they are or not, I won't be your spy."

"Please understand, Elena," Hojo said calmly. "I'm not asking you to 'spy' on your fellow Turks. Just…keep an eye on them. Especially that red-haired one. Keep me informed."

Elena bit her lip. "I really think you should discuss this with Tseng."

"But you see, I can't!" Hojo exclaimed. "If there was a plot, say, to overthrow the president, do you think your fellow Turks would share it with their leader? Assuming he himself isn't in on it. But you, Elena, you are a rookie. They'd be eager to impress you, to boast of their daring exploits-"

"Th…this is ridiculous!" Elena sputtered, starting to turn away again. "I won't have any part in it."

His voice stopped her cold. "This is your job on the line, my dear. I have authority over Heidegger. Your boss. If you don't do as I say…" He stopped, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

Elena considered, weighing the facts. She didn't like the idea of doing the president's dirty work, but he _was _the president, after all. And it wouldn't really be betraying the others if she kept an eye on them, would it? It was her job, after all. 

Besides, she could always change her mind, let this jerk do his own dirty work. But if he got her fired… 

What would Tseng do if he was in her position? She didn't know for sure, but she was nearly certain he would do it. Tseng was a devoted, loyal man- he would follow the president's orders, no matter how unorthodox they seemed at the time. 

It couldn't hurt to agree, at least. She could always back out if she needed to. 

"All right," she said at last. "I'll look out for…anything." _Specifically, Reno doing anything,_ she added silently. She did not trust that man!

Hojo gave a small smile. "That's all I ask, my dear," he said. "That's all I ask."

~

Reno threw his nightstick up in the air and caught it in his right hand. "Just an hour alone with him," he said, half to himself. "That's all I need."

"Hojo's too powerful in the company," Rude reminded him. "Besides, he's told us a lot."

Reno tossed his nightstick in the air again. "Yeah, I know. He just pisses me off." He paused for a moment, then began to grin. "Let me show you something." 

_Oh boy…_ Rude thought as Reno switched the weapon on. The redhead paused to flash one more cocky grin as he did something with the rod, sending a blast of power from the dangerous end. The ball of electricity smashed into the outside wall, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the building. Rude stepped to the huge opening and looked outside. Passerby at the street were staring up at the Shinra building with horror. 

"That wasn't the smartest move you've ever made, Reno," Rude said to his friend.

Reno shrugged. "Oops. If anyone asks, it was Elena."

Rude turned around, eyeing the rod. It had never been that powerful; Wat hadn't been able to blow chunks out of buildings. At least, Rude didn't think he had. "What happened to it?"

Reno switched it off. "You know those bastards who busted me up?"

Rude nodded. He meant AVALANCHE- specifically Cloud, Tifa, and a man named Barret. 

"I was thinking maybe I could upgrade this baby." Reno's fingers slid over the weapon with a peculiar sort of affection, and a small, tight smile graced the corners of his mouth. Not for the first time, Rude wondered if his friend really remembered everything that had transpired in Death Row. Sometimes it seemed like the Turk had forgotten everything, put it out of his mind.

Reno looked up, and Rude saw a flash of half-crazed mirth in his eyes. It was then he realized Reno had forgotten nothing. Instead of putting the trauma and grief behind him, he had merely carried it all back with him. 

"You know a lot about wiring?" Rude asked, trying to draw Reno's attention away from the weapon. It worked; Reno looked up and shrugged a bit.

"Not really," he admitted. "But it wasn't that hard. Just took some messing with the little switchgrid inside-"

Rude was already lost, but pretended to be listening intently. Reno had a habit of making the most complicated things sound easy. Of course, he was so skilled at playing dumb no one knew how intelligent he really was. Rude suspected his partner preferred it that way. 

"What did you think of Elena?" Rude suddenly asked. Reno paused in his technical ramblings and thought for a moment. 

"Naïve," he said at last. "You can tell she's the kind of girl who'd smile at the homeless guy in the street and ask his name. She's got a bit of backbone, but it won't make a difference when the homeless guy starts getting too friendly, you know?"

"I hope you didn't freak her out too much," Rude commented. He knew Reno had probably tested her a bit, maybe seen how far he could push her.

"Nah." Reno grinned. "Well, maybe-"

He stopped speaking suddenly as the door to the staffroom opened. Tseng came in, looking more or less alert since his coffee. His eyes strayed to the destroyed wall. He stopped dead, then stepped to the wall and surveyed the damage.

"I don't suppose," he said quietly, "that either of you…" He abruptly whirled around, glaring at both Turks. "…_have_ _any idea what happened?!_"

Reno, realizing he still held the nightstick, quickly hid it behind his back. Rude rolled his eyes behind his dark lenses, but said nothing.

"A bomb went off, Sir," Reno said gravely. "Lucky we got here in time to put out the fire."

Tseng sighed. "Knock it off, Reno." He grabbed the redhead's wrist and twisted until Reno reluctantly relinquished the nightstick. Tseng inspected the rod for a moment, then handed it back. "This is coming out of your pay. What are you doing here, anyway? You're still on leave."

Reno glanced to Rude, who said nothing. The Turk cleared his throat. "Missed you all too much to stay away," he tried.

Tseng gave him a long stare. "Why were you bothering Professor Hojo?"

"Sir!" Reno looked shocked. "Are you suggesting I'm not scientist material? I've been hanging around the lab every chance I can get. Hojo and I really are great friends now."

"Really," Tseng said, sounding skeptical. "Then what's his first name?"

Reno knew he was caught, but he still didn't miss a beat. "Lucifer."

"Wrong." Tseng didn't look amused. "Ten points for creativity, but still wrong."

Rude and Reno looked at each other. "Sir?"

"Never mind." Their leader covered a yawn. "Okay, Reno. I don't know what you're up to, and I'm not sure I want to know. But unless you're seriously considering a change in profession, you'll remember our priorities are Sephiroth, then Cloud. You don't have time to pursue scientific interests."

Reno pretended to look disappointed. "All right, sir." 

"Go home and get some sleep," Tseng ordered. "You're back with us when you're completely healed, otherwise you're useless. Understand?"

Reno's jaw clenched angrily, but he merely said, "Yes." He didn't add "sir" this time.

"Good." Tseng turned to the other Turk. "Rude, we've received word that Sephiroth is heading for Junon. We're going to try to intercept him and end this." 

Rude nodded, but at the words _end this_ he felt a quiver of fear. Sephiroth was the most powerful warrior that had ever lived. He had once been a member of Shinra, but apparently held no love for the company. On top of all that, he was supposed to be dead.

Tseng was still talking. "I want you to go tell Elena. You two prepare to leave. We head out tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir." Rude saluted quickly, then left to find her.

Tseng nodded to Reno and was about to leave when the latter's voice stopped him. "Hey, Tseng?"

"Yeah?"

Reno gave a slight smile. "For future reference, what _is _Hojo's first name?"

Tseng shrugged. "The truth? I have no idea." With that, he walked out, leaving the gaping redhead alone in the room. 

Reno took a moment to close his mouth. "I bet it really is Lucifer," he announced to the empty air. 

~

Despite Tseng's orders to leave immediately, it was late afternoon by the time Reno started home. He took Shinra's private train down to Sector 8, then got off to walk home from there. He lived in a rundown condominium located in Sector 6. It was a good few miles' walk from where he was, and until he got his car back, that was what he had to do: Walk.

In fact, he had to go out of his way and take a roundabout route to skirt the remains of Sector 7. "Remains" was a loose term- the sector was now little more than a gigantic heap of rubble. Sometimes, a few of the poorer folks would rummage around in the ruins in hopes of finding a bauble to sell. But not many ventured near there. It was, after all, a graveyard of sorts. Setting off that bomb had killed more people at once than Reno ever had in his entire lifetime.

As he stepped past the crushed mound of metal and debris, a weak little crying sound caught his attention. Reno paused and listened, then his expression turned to one of puzzlement. The sound was coming from the ruins of Sector 7. Reno hesitated a second longer, then ran over. There was no way anyone could be alive under that mass of refuse and destroyed lives. 

But someone was.

With the sudden, half-crazed image of a person buried alive under the rubble, he dropped to his knees and began to dig frantically with his good arm. The cries got louder as he moved heavier pieces of metal aside, and it seemed to him they had a childlike quality. How a child had gotten trapped under the ruins he didn't know, but he had to get it out.

At last, he'd uncovered a sizable hole in the debris. As he moved one last piece aside, a little snow-white head shot up and looked around with bright green eyes. It was still mewing pitiably.

Reno sat back and stared stupidly as the kitten crawled the rest of the way out of the hole. Its white fur was matted with blood in places, but for the most part it appeared to be uninjured. The little animal sat on its haunches and appraised him silently before letting out a loud, decisive yowl.

"You're welcome," Reno told the cat, still wondering how the hell the thing had been trapped in the first place. It merely looked back at him with that piercing gaze, and Reno suddenly felt uncomfortable. The blood-matted white fur reminded him of another cat, one whose life he'd cut short so many years ago…

He stood up quickly and started walking. He needed to get home; a few drinks would help him relax. A few stiff drinks.

A sneaking glance behind his shoulder proved the worst: The thing was following him. He whirled around and shouted at it: "Get away! Go home! Don't you have a home?"

It stopped and looked at him, mewing plaintively.

"That's not my problem," he snarled, starting to walk again. "Go bug somebody else. I'm sure Tseng would love to have you around." 

Even though he was certain it was still following him, Reno didn't dare look behind him again- maybe it would go away if he ignored it for a while. It was worth a try. 

Unable to stand it anymore, he looked around again- and there it was, still trotting after him. 

"Go away!" he yelled, bending to grab a small rock. "Get out of here!" With one well-aimed throw, he sent the stone skittering at the cat. He wasn't sure where, but he must have struck it, because it gave a yelp of terror and sprinted away. Reno continued walking, feeling justified but not quite alleviated. He couldn't shake the annoying feeling that he was still being followed, and not by the cat.

He later discovered he was right.

****

Author's Note

****

It's summer, I'm supposed to find time to write, right? Well, guess again. Inspiration seems thin these days…sitting on the couch watching reruns of _Friends_ is becoming more and more appealing…

But what am I bitching about? This story is heating up fast. The next chap will include some much-needed action scenes! And anyway, (how does that saying go?) I dug my grave and now I must die in it…or something. 

~Lila


	12. Attacked

Attacked 

It was drizzling by the time Reno got home, and it wasn't helping his mood any. He slammed his way inside and threw his jacket on a chair. The action sent a jolt of pain running through his bad arm; he'd forgotten about that particular injury. He swore and rubbed it. Oh crap, he'd forgotten to pick up painkillers that day…

He yanked open his refrigerator and dug out a can of beer, hoping wryly that Rude would get shot too, so he would see what being an invalid was like. God knows the bastard deserved it, after all the little errands he'd forced Reno to run. Not to say that it hadn't been amusing, threatening Hojo and then messing with the rookie…

He took a gulp of beer and wandered over to the kitchen table. He sank down in the chair, thinking about everything he'd learned that day. What was Rude up to? Obviously something to do with Hojo. His probable human experiments, perhaps?

Come to think of it, what was Hojo up to? And why had the scientist covered for him when Tseng had bust in on them? Tseng hadn't necessarily _believed_ that Reno was an aspiring scientist, but he'd let it slide, and that was all that mattered. Hojo hadn't come up with that "scientist" shit just to be nice. It had almost seemed like a passing thought, like maybe Hojo thought it'd be a better idea to have a Turk as a friend than an enemy.

_Idiot, _Reno thought as he downed his beer. _Nobody's friends with a Turk._

Suddenly he heard something outside. A loud thump. It was hard to tell, the rain drowned out any other noise, but he was certain of it. Something was outside.

He drew his nightstick and crept to the door. Dusk was just drawing near, and the gathering darkness limited his vision. After a moment, his eyes adjusted, and he crept out the door. Not a soul in sight. But he knew he hadn't imagined it. He stepped back to the house and, with a last glance around, went in. 

Pressed against the wall of Reno's condominium, Elena breathed a sigh of relief. Her ankle throbbed, and it had been stupid to stumble around in the dark, but she hadn't been caught. Next time, she'd have to be careful _not _to trip and make a noise…

The door burst open again and Reno grabbed her by the throat. Elena froze, rooted by terror as he slammed her into the side of the house. Before she could move, he brought up some kind of weapon and held it an inch from her throat. She could feel searing heat.

"You'd better have a good explanation, sister," he said in a terrifyingly calm voice. Scattered raindrops fell from the sky, but he took no notice and waited calmly, almost detached.

Elena's breath was coming in sharp gasps. "Please…" she whispered. "Don't kill me."

He drew back from her with a snort of disgust, thankfully removing the weapon. "I'm not going to kill you. Maybe beat you half to death, but not kill you."

After a moment, Elena realized this was a joke and cracked a weak smile. "I guess you'll want to know why I'm here."

"I guess I will." He switched off the weapon and shoved open the door, suddenly becoming the easy-going man she'd met before. "Here, let's get out of the rain."

She followed him inside and immediately bit back an appalled gasp. Reno, apparently, did not live neat. Beer cans and empty plates of food littered shelves and even the floor. If Elena didn't know better she would have sworn everything was arranged in some kind of absurd formation, as though the resident was actually proud of his collection. Clothes littered the floor as well, elaborating the cluttered appearance. Perhaps adding to the effect was the small size of the place. Even from her vantage point in the front hall, Elena could see the residence consisted only of the small living room the front hall led to, a kitchen further out, and probably a single bedroom.

Reno didn't apologize for the mess, merely swept a stack of magazines off the table before sitting in a chair. Elena did too, with some difficulty.

"What's the matter with you?" He'd noticed she was limping.

"I tripped outside and hurt my ankle," she explained, a little shamefacedly. "It was stupid…"

Without another word, he got out of his chair and knelt by her feet. "This the one?" he asked, pointed to her right ankle. When she nodded, he slipped up her pant leg and probed the injury with surprising gentleness. After a moment, he stood up again.

"I'll be back," he said shortly, and left the room.

Elena sat in her chair, nervously tapping her fingers on the table. It had been a bad idea to follow him, and an even worse one to try to sneak a peek into his house. Spying was not a game she was used to, but she would have to use more sense than this in the future. 

Besides, he'd almost killed her when he'd found her outside. Elena wasn't sure why he hadn't, come to think of it. If it was only because he knew who she was, then she'd had a close call. She'd only met the guy today –and she already wished she hadn't.

Reno returned, tossing her an ice pack. "It's only a sprain. Put that on and it should reduce the swelling," he instructed.

She did what he said as he sat back down. He'd retrieved his beer (either that or gotten a new one) and was now watching her warily. "You can start explaining now," he said.

Elena thought fast. "Tseng told me to make sure you got home okay, seeing as you're injured and all," she lied. "And, well, to make sure you didn't drink too much…" That was partly true. Tseng had spoken to her about the drinking habits of both Reno and Rude, and to keep an eye on them. He'd never mentioned actually _following_ them, but Reno didn't have to know that.

Reno raised an eyebrow. "Drink too much? Me?" He downed the last of his drink, then crumpled the can and threw it against the wall. It bounced off and landed on the floor with a clatter. "Now there's one I've never heard before."

Elena didn't say anything, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Here she was, sitting in the (extremely untidy) kitchen of a man she hardly knew, and who was an obvious alcoholic. Not only that, but she was lying to him, partly because of necessity, but mostly out of fear. The look in his eyes, when he'd caught her, had been real. She tried to put it out of her mind, but she couldn't help searching his face, looking for some hint of what she'd seen. Nothing. She wondered if she'd imagined it.

"Well?" Reno's voice yanked her out of her thoughts.

"What?"

"I got home okay," he said impatiently. "You gonna leave or not?"

She'd followed him on foot. "Could you give me a lift to Sector 2?"

He smirked. "You're out of luck, babe. My car and license were yanked a while ago." Driving while intoxicated. Those authorities were full of shit. 

"Then what can I do?" Elena asked, feeling frustrated.

He sighed and stood up. "I'll walk you as far as the train station. After that, you're on your own."

Elena nodded, but she was worried. She didn't often take the trains at night because of the many dangers of a young woman traveling alone. Now she wasn't sure which would be safer, going alone or in Reno's company. Still, she couldn't very well refuse his offer without offending him.

It was now thoroughly dark, as they discovered when they set foot outside again. Rain was falling steadily by now, and the bad weather only made it more difficult to see. Without her companion, Elena soon would have been hopelessly lost. But Reno seemed to know these streets well; he led her through alleys and across junkyards without hesitation. He said nothing about how far away the train station was, in fact, he said hardly anything at all. Occasionally Elena would stumble because of her bad ankle, but he would invariably catch her before she fell.

His touch made her uncomfortable. The fact was, Elena didn't know Reno well, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. He was a drinker, and worse than that, he scared her. She couldn't forget the look in his eyes, when he'd grabbed her by the throat, like he wanted to kill her. No, almost _needed _to. Putting away his weapon -whatever it was- had seemed an immense effort for him. It had been the same with Rude, when she'd joined the Turks a few days before. The way he'd looked at his while flexing his fist in that black glove…after Tseng's intrusion, she'd put the incident out of her mind, sensing that Rude was unwilling to discuss it. Still…

"Reno," she said finally, trotting to keep up. The strain made her ankle throb, but she ignored it. "What is it I'm missing?"

He glanced at her. "What?"

"About the Turks," she pressed. "What is it that's different?"

He hesitated. She was certain of it. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"There's something different between me and you, Rude, Tseng. What is it I'm missing?"

Reno missed a stride. For a moment he didn't say anything, then he sighed and looked at her. "Things were…different, when we were rookies."

"Perhaps you'd care to explain?" she said sharply. He was hiding something, she could tell by his voice, even though it was too dark to see his face.

"We were trained differently," Reno said shortly. "With methods not practiced now."

"Why not?" she demanded, trying to match his pace. "I should be trained the same way you guys were. I'm going to be facing the same situations you are, going the same places you go. Who knows? I might even enjoy it."

Again Reno was silent. How could Elena know he was thinking of the last female Turk, who hadn't even survived her training? Lynn had been made to endure extra torment the others hadn't suffered, such as rape and ridicule and-

No. Elena would not enjoy it.

"I just want to keep this job," she said softly. Reno turned; in the darkness he could scarcely see her.

He was about to tell her no, the last thing she wanted was to keep this job, when it suddenly happened. A barrage of bullets tore through the air. Reno, who immediately knew what was happening, grabbed Elena and threw both of them to the ground, shouting, "Get down!"

The angry sound of gunfire didn't slow or stop. Elena pressed as low to the cement as she could, terrified. It was pitch black, making it impossible to see where the gunfire was coming from. Not only that, but the pounding rain mixed in with the gun retorts- no chance of hearing where they were coming from, either. 

Reno grabbed her by the arm. "We need to run for cover!" he shouted above the roar of the din. "There's an old shopping mall to your left. On three, we go!"

Elena nodded, then realized he probably couldn't see her. "Okay."

Was it possible the gunfire was coming closer? Elena couldn't tell. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and her own pounding heart seemed louder than everything else. She used to her hand to push her rain-soaked bangs out of her eyes.

"One!" Reno yelled. "Two! Three!" 

Elena jumped up and dashed to the left. She realized with alarm that Reno wasn't beside her anymore. She slowed just a bit, but he came up from the other side and shoved her, yelling, "Move, goddammit!

The wall of the shopping mall loomed up before she was ready. Elena nearly slammed into it, using her palms to stop herself. The impact shook her, but Reno was already yelling again.

"Against the wall! Here, this dumpster." He dragged her behind the giant metal trash bin. Normally Elena would have thought twice before hiding behind a seething mass of garbage, but at the moment she wasn't particular. 

Finally, the gunfire momentarily stopped. Reno crept close to her. She realized he was panting, too. "They're looking for us," he whispered. "Listen, keep moving. Don't let them get a clear shot. Use this." He pressed something cold and hard into her hand.

She shook her head, sending drops of water flying into Reno's face. "I can't."

"You can't even use a gun?" There it was again, that note of derision in his voice, as though she wasn't even worth mocking.

She grit her teeth and pulled away from him. "I can figure it out." 

"Okay." Quickly he guided her fingers through the motions. "This is the safety. You flip it back when you're ready to shoot. Trigger's here. Pull it to fire. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." She wasn't sure if she did, but she knew that was what he wanted to hear. 

"Good." He leaned closer, his breath grazing her ear. "Run for the front entrance of the mall. I'll cover you. If we get separated, keep going. I'll go first, but you have to keep between the wall and me. Wait a few seconds, then follow me. Understand?"

"Yes." Elena fingered the gun nervously as Reno dashed out into the open. She silently counted to ten, then followed.

This area was a bit easier to see, thanks to the weak glow of a few streetlamps further up the road. Elena could vaguely detect Reno's outline as he motioned her behind him. She obeyed, making sure her back was kept to the wall of the mini-mall. Her face was wet with rain and sweat, even though the air was freezing. Her hand trembled as she held the gun. She didn't fully comprehend what was happening, or why. Why would someone try to kill them? Reno seemed pretty calm about it, though. Was this something that often happened to him?

Suddenly there were shouts- they were found. Elena jerked back against the wall, shaking so badly it was a miracle she didn't drop the gun. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes.

Up ahead, Reno had his nightstick out, eyes warily scanning the area for unseen enemies. Like Elena, he wasn't sure what was happening, but years as a Turk had prepared him for situations like this. He'd rather have Rude at his back than the unreliable rookie, but he had to make do with her. 

A shape materialized out of the darkness In front of him. Reno had just enough time to register the muzzle of a machine gun before Elena suddenly screamed from behind him. They were hemmed in.

Reno threw himself to the ground as the machine began firing madly. Cursing, he thrust out his arm and found the leg of the gunholder. With a grunt of effort, he yanked the man down. 

The man shouted in surprise as his gun flew out of his hands. Reno grabbed him by the collar and pressed the nightstick to his throat, silencing him before he could make another sound. The corpse was still jerking and twitching with electricity as Reno jumped up.

Elena was standing over a corpse of her own, gun still smoking in her hand. She was pale and looked to be in shock, but unhurt.

"He didn't see me," she explained dazedly, clutching the wall as though for support. "He was coming after you, I think. When he went by I pulled the trigger. He's dead now."

She'd saved his ass, if that was true. "Why did you scream?" Reno demanded bluntly. Elena lowered her eyes.

"The retort scared me," she half-whispered. "It was deafening and it threw me back. I thought I'd been hit." 

Any respect she'd won from him quickly evaporated. He was stuck in a life-threatening situation with a rookie who didn't have a clue as to what she was doing. Now there was a comforting thought. He was amazed she hadn't shot herself yet. Well, there was plenty of time for that. Their night was far from over if there were more gunmen, as Reno suspected.

He took a quick evaluation of the corpses. Both were definitely men, with broad chests and stocky limbs. They were each armed with at least one automatic gun. More interesting, however, each was clothed in black from head to toe, as though to blend in with the night. Black silk masks obscured their faces, and gloves covered their hands. No signets of emblems of any kind were visible on the clothes; if they were part of any organization, they wanted to keep it secret. 

He wanted to take a closer look at the bodies, but there was no time. He glanced at Elena. She seemed to be recovering a bit.

"Pull yourself together," he said brusquely. "We have to go. There's more of them out there."

She nodded and straightened a little, taking a deep breath. "I'm ready," she said, sounding a little stronger than before.

"Goody. Follow me." He ducked low and crept along the side of the rain-slicked wall. Elena shivered and wiped her sleeve across her face. _My uniform is going to be ruined_, she thought, then was immediately horrified with herself. She had just killed a man, and she was worried about her clothes? How pathetic.

Besides, professionals didn't care about the state of their uniform, they just got the job done…

They rounded another corner and were assaulted by bright light. They had reached the front entrance of the shopping mall, and the area was flooded with street lamps. The darkness that was their cover had fled.

The shopping mall wasn't very large, but it was expansive, with a brick-lined walkway leading up to glass double doors. To each side of the doors were small leafy bushes along the walls. Opposite the mall was all open street lined with parked cars and dumpsters- plenty of places for a sniper to hide. 

"Shit," Reno said in a low tone. He was certain there were more enemies out there, but he had no way of telling how many. It could be anywhere from two to thirty, and they were as good as discovered. "Get the doors," he hissed to Elena.

She ducked behind him and tugged at the handles while Reno watched the street for signs of movement. The last thing he wanted to do was turn his back on their unseen enemy.

"They won't open!" Elena cried, her shrill voice penetrating the silence like a siren.

"Break the glass!" he snapped, annoyed with her.

She looked shocked. "Reno, that's breaking and entering!"

He half-turned to yell at her. "Dammit, Elena-"

An explosion of gunfire nearly knocked him off his feet. Reno grabbed Elena and dove into the bushes, landing hard on his broken arm. He swore violently as the attack went on. The force of the bullets shattered the doors, sending fragments of glass flying through the air. One piece caught Elena on the side of her face, leaving a nasty cut. But at least they didn't have to worry about breaking and entering anymore.

"Come on!" Reno shouted when the barrage finally slowed. He dashed into the building, Elena close behind.

The mall was empty, of course, since it was after-hours. The power was out, bathing the entire vicinity in darkness. The escalators had stopped, becoming regular stairways down to the lower level. Stores lined the walls; display windows were darkened and quiet. The store entrances were blocked off by locked roll-down gates. 

Reno noticed all this in an instant, immediately realizing their options were few. "This way!" He leaped over the railing and dropped to the frozen escalator. Elena's eyes widened, but she was too afraid to go around to the top of the stairs, which were at the opposite end of the room. Reno knew she was afraid he'd leave her.

She hesitated a moment more, then a stray bullet struck the railing close to her left hand. She gave a little scream of terror.

"Hurry!" Reno said impatiently. 

She gripped the rail with one hand, quickly swinging over the stair well. She almost fell, but Reno caught her and steadied her.

Up above, several black-clothed men peered over the railing. Upon spotting them, one yelled to his comrades.

"There! Kill them!" 

Almost before the words were spoken, Reno brought out his nightstick and shot a ball of energy toward the above railing. The railing exploded, burst out in resplendent light. Chucks of marble crashed down around them as a portion of the upper floor broke apart.

Reno grabbed hold of Elena and tugged her down the last of the stairs. From behind, there came the sound of orders being shouted and the groans of dying men. 

__

He's scared, Elena finally realized. The men in black –whoever they were- were trying to kill them. She and Reno could both die before the night was over. The thought was strangely comforting- one way or another, it all had to end before morning dawned. Then it occurred to her that she was in shock.

"Wait," she said, stopping. Reno looked back at her impatiently.

"_What_? Did you break a nail?" 

She ignored his sarcasm. "I think we lost them."

"Not for long," he warned. "We need to keep moving."

"Who are they?" He seemed to know more about what was going on than she did. "What do they want?"

"I don't know! And if I knew what they wanted, I'd give it to them." He shook his head. "Except it's pretty obvious they want us dead." Suddenly he tensed, as though listening carefully. He grabbed her arm and hauled her forward. "Someone's coming!"

They were in the food court, Elena realized. Empty tables and chairs surrounded them like a forest. Around the outskirts of the tables were various food-chain stores. Elena saw a_ McDonalds _sign to the right. The food court was not quite as dark as the rest of the mall- a large skylight on the ceiling let in a spare bit of moonlight. Rain still pounded above, and the sound provided dull background noise, like the roar of a waterfall. She heard no footsteps over the noise of the storm. She had no idea how Reno knew someone was coming, but she didn't wait to see if he was right or not. Following his lead, she ducked under a table. With Reno there too, it was a tight fit. When she moved to make room, one of the chairs scraped loudly on the tiled floor. She felt, rather than saw, Reno's withering look. 

When all was silent once more, she at last heard what Reno had already noticed: The slow tread of footsteps. She swallowed hard and tried to make herself smaller. The slight pressure of Reno's hand on her shoulder warned her not to move.

At length, a single man, armed with the blinding beam of a flashlight, came into view. Elena was still for a moment, but then she suddenly realized this was not one of the men who had been chasing them- in fact, he was a security guard.

"Reno!" she hissed. "He's not one of them!"

"Of course not," he answered softly, yet scathingly as usual. "They wouldn't split up. Not when there are Turks to deal with." 

"He can help us." Elena started to crawl out from under the table, but he stopped her.

"No!" he ordered. "Don't move. Wait."

Surprised at his vehemence, she did as he said. The guard shined his flashlight around the food court.

"Who's there?" he called sharply. "Give yourself up now."

Elena tensed, but did nothing. _We haven't done anything wrong, _she reasoned silently. _So we don't need to come out. _Of course, Reno's weird electrical weapon had destroyed a good section of the upper floor…

She almost missed what happened next.

A dark shape, as black as the blackness surrounding them, suddenly appeared at the guard's side. Before Elena had time to cry out a warning, the guard let out a strangled sound of alarm. She could just make out a gloved hand clamped over his mouth. The guard's flashlight clattered to the floor, spilling a ray of light over Reno's left arm. He stiffened, then slowly eased it out of the light.

"This the one we want?" said the man hiding the struggling guard. Elena could see other men in black, illuminated by the glow of the flashlight. One looked different from the others; instead of a black glove on his left hand, his was silver. Elena wondered why.

"No," the one with the silver glove said dismissively. "Kill him."

Elena looked to Reno, but he only gazed back at her, expressionless. When she realized he wasn't going to do anything, she cocked the gun with trembling hands. Reno made a move to grab the weapon, but she had already pulled the trigger.

One of the men collapsed, clutching his leg with a garbled curse. The silver-gloved man, the apparent leader, bent and inspected the wound. When he rose, Elena shrank back. He was looking right at their hiding place. 

"They're here." It was a soft, certain statement, and Elena realized with a sinking heart that she and Reno were going to be found. And then killed.

The fallen man clutched at his leader's pant leg, groaning. Without looking at him, the leader made a slashing motion with his silver-gloved hand. Immediately another gunman moved in and fired a few rounds. The injured man fell back, lifeless. 

Elena began to tremble.

"Split up and search the area," the leader ordered. "When you find them, bring them to me."

The group of men disassembled, splitting off in all directions among the tables. The one man holding the guard made a sudden motion, and the guard slid wetly to the flood. The gleam of the flashlight showed blood on his throat.

"Move!" Reno's angry whisper jerked her out of a momentary daze. She saw that he had moved the chairs aside to clear a path for them to the next aisle of tables. Clutching the gun, she crawled after him, not daring to breathe.

She wondered how angry he was with her. Surely he was furious because she had alerted the men to their presence. She saw now that her valiant effort to save the guard had been pointless, and only resulted in another death. She resolved to think first in the future. If there was a future.

Once under the next table, Reno whispered: "We'll try for the wall. If we can reach it, it'll be one less angle for them to attack from. If need be, we'll split up." His eyes darted to the gun in her hand. "Good thing you're learning how to use that. That won't be the last man you'll kill tonight."

She missed the cynical sort of compliment. "Why did that man kill the guy I shot?" she questioned. "Weren't they on the same side?"

"He would have slowed them up," Reno said impatiently. "They couldn't have that." Suddenly the nightstick was in his hand. "Let's go."

As she followed him, Elena couldn't help but wonder: What would Reno do if she was shot herself? Would he help her, or simply leave her to die? Or, worse yet, kill her himself? Could- no, he definitely could. _Would _he do such a thing?

Already he was good distance ahead, gesturing impatiently for her to hurry. Elena hesitated. She didn't trust Reno, didn't like or even know him at all. But he was the only one she could count on to get her out of this mess, and maybe give her an explanation.

In her moment of indecision, she saw him draw back and swear silently. Confused, she opened her mouth, but words left her as one of the men stepped down the aisle between her and Reno, searching. Elena shrank against the table legs, frantically pulling back the safety on her gun. A tremor ran through her, as though she was shivering, and Elena knew she was more frightened now than she'd ever been. If she fainted –which she vaguely wondered if she was about to do- she had little doubt Reno _would_ leave her behind. 

The man paused, glancing about quickly. He started to move on, but then he looked under the table and caught sight of her. She heard his quick intake of breath, ready to alert the others. She raised the gun hastily, but Reno leapt up like a cobra, looming over the man. There was an instant in which Elena froze with horror, and she couldn't say who she was more afraid of, the gunman or the black apparition she knew to be Reno. Then the Turk struck, and the gunman fell limply to the floor. Elena sucked in a trembling breath, looking up at Reno wordlessly. He motioned for her to get up. 

"Make a break for the wall," he said softly. "I'll come behind you. Don't hesitate to shoot, but only if you need to. It's too loud, and you're almost empty."

She nodded quickly, breathlessly. Too fast. Everything was happening too fast!

Just the, a beam of light swept over them both. It was the leader, his silver glove0 flashing in the glow of the flashlight in his hand. For a moment Elena wondered where it had come from, then recalled how the guard had dropped it to the floor. 

She froze in the light, like a deer in the path of an oncoming car. Reno did not; wrenching the gun from her hands and firing quickly. 

"Never mind what I said," he shouted over the noise of the bullets. "Go!"

Elena had already realized by this time that only a fool would fail to obey any of Reno's orders that night. True, he scorned her, disliked her, laughed at and ridiculed her, but he was not acting on his emotions that night, nor any personal feelings. He had become a killing machine, acting and reacting purely for his –and her, she had to admit- survival. The man she disliked and distrusted had disappeared as though he'd never been, and in his place stood the most ruthless, yet most coldly intelligent man she had ever known. Anything he said to her was only to be obeyed with alacrity, or she would endanger them both. She knew this, by now.

But she had started running before the command left his lips.


	13. Escape

Escape

            Reno reloaded the gun as he ran, cursing himself for a fool. Regardless of what Elena thought, he was not as perfectly calm and collected as he had seemed. Mentally he second-guessed almost every move he made, although he had only now sunk to berating himself. _Idiot! Why'd you let her go off alone if you were going to take away her only means of defense?_

_ It _had_ been for her own safety, but now she was in more danger than before. It had been stupid of him to leave his home with only the nightstick and one gun in the first place. His skills with the electric rod bypassed any living person's, but it was a close-range weapon, more suitable for torturing a victim than actually killing them. Yes, he'd modified it for more destructive means, but the wiring was imperfect and it needed to be charged before use…_

            He had to find Elena before those men did, that was all. There were plenty of them left, he had no doubt of that. Yes, he'd killed many, but others still lived, including their one-armed leader.

            Reno had sharper eyes than Elena; he'd recognized that the leader wore not a silver glove over his left arm, but instead had a mechanical hand. That man had evaded his shots and found cover. As soon as there was a break in the fighting,  Reno had turned and run after Elena, killing any who got in his way.  

             And now he had lost her.

            Reno swore aloud, rolling the shoulder of his broken arm as well as he could. Now that the adrenaline of the chase had worn off, the injury began to ache with strain and suppressed tension. He could not keep this up all night. He had to find Elena and get out of here. There were too many to fight, even for a Turk, never mind a wounded one and a rookie

            _Elena, where the hell are you!_

_            "Reno!" _

            The urgent hiss took him by surprise. Reno had whipped around, gun ready, before he realized it was Elena. She had poked her head out of a swinging door off to the side- the entrance to the ladies' restroom, as a matter of fact. Only when he'd lowered his gun did she breathe a sigh of relief.

            "Why do you always do that?" she demanded angrily. "I have enough to worry about without being shot by _you_!"

            "And my reflexes are the only reason you're still alive," he snarled, thrusting the gun at her. She took it, stepping out of the bathroom warily.  

            "Are we safe?" she asked in a whisper. He shook his head.

            "Not yet. And we won't be until we get out of here." He started down the hall, sure of foot despite the thick darkness. Elena hesitated, then hurried after him, walking quickly so he wouldn't leave her behind. At his side she paused again, then tentatively wrapped her hand around his right arm, above the broken bone.  

            _She's still afraid of me, but more afraid of losing her way in the dark, thought Reno with a certain amount of satisfaction. That was good. The sooner she overcame her lesser fears, the sooner she could brave her greater ones. Not that he really cared, but if he was going to get Elena out of there, he'd teach her something along the way. _

            Since it wasn't his left arm and she was only hurting him a bit, Reno let her hang onto him as they walked –quickly, but without actually running –down the corridor. He knew there would be a back exit at the end of this aisle.

            And it was there the man with the mechanical arm waited for them.

            His mask obscured his face, but there was a smile in his voice as he spoke to them.

            "I have been anxious to meet you, Reno of the Turks."

            His voice was not low, but surprisingly high, with a nasal tone that would have been funny if he hadn't been so obviously dangerous. Reno pried Elena off him, seemingly unconcerned.

            "That so? You didn't seem so welcoming when you and your friends were trying to shoot me." Reno put emphasis on the word _trying_, a slight smile of contempt on his lips. Elena wondered why he wasn't fighting the man, simply talking.

            The man gave a crooked shrug. "Simply a test, Turk, of your skills in battle. You would not be worth introducing myself to if you let those incompetent fools kill you."

            "Speaking of introducing yourself, who are you?" Elena blurted. Both men looked at her in mild surprise.

            "Forgive me." The man gave a mocking bow. "I am Lirves."

            "Why don't you come over here and introduce yourself properly?" Reno drawled, flipping up the nightstick. To Elena he muttered, "Get out of here. I'll deal with him."

            "You'll need help," she began, but he cut her short. 

            "No, Elena. This is a direct order. Leave, now."

            She saw the look in his green eyes and didn't argue. Creeping off to the side, she edged away and ran for the exit. 

            Lirves didn't stop her, perhaps because he was already dealing with Reno. Elena noticed with surprise that he fought not with a gun, like his fellows, but with a thin, curved saber unlike any blade she had ever seen before. She didn't know if it actually was a sword or just a long dagger, but she was already running out the exit as fast as she could go, and she didn't care to stop to find out.

            Outside, the pouring rain felt cool on her hot face, and she stood for a moment, panting. It was over. She'd survived, and any minute now Reno would come out, boasting about how he'd defeated Lirves…

            Before she caught her breath, something slammed her back into the glass door. Elena cried out in pain, but a gloved hand silenced her cry. She stared into the face of yet another black-masked man, one who didn't seem to have a gun yet frightened her no less…

            Still holding her against the glass, he peeled off his mask to reveal a young face no older than she, twisted into an expression of leering amusement. He had rakish blond hair and blue-green eyes that stared at her in a way that made all the blood drain from her face. 

            "He didn't mention you," the man said in a tone that reflected that same amusement. He reached out and touched her face gently. Elena, paralyzed, could only watch. 

            "No," he continued to muse, "he didn't say you'd be with the Turk. This is a pleasant surprise…I'll thank him later." 

            Somehow, it seemed she could hear Reno yelling at her. _Why do you always act like such a rookie?_

_            Tears stung at her eyes. __I'm sorry! she wanted to yell back. __It's not my fault I was never allowed to prove otherwise! _

_            The guy seemed to like her fear, pressing himself closer. "Think you're scared now?" he whispered intimately. "Wait until later…much later, you'll see…"_

            _Then prove it now. _

_            He pressed her back against the glass, kissing her roughly against the side of her mouth. Elena struggled weakly, but she was trying hard to concentrate on what Reno was saying. _

            _Prove what?_

_            He fumbled with his belt buckle. Elena couldn't seem to summon up the courage even to scream for help. No help would come._

            _That you're not a rookie… It was annoyed, disgusted, and enough to spur her into action. _

_            Then, between them both, the cold, hard metal of the gun. Pulling away just enough to jam the muzzle into his stomach, she looked hard into his eyes. She saw cruel amusement there, blinded to the danger by his own good fortune. A little blond woman was no threat. _

            When she pulled the trigger, there was almost no sound, muffled as it was inside of his stomach. But she felt the kickback, felt the screaming vibration tear upward into her arm. His mouth worked, but nothing emitted but a thin trickle of blood. Elena, too, could not seem to make a sound, even as he fell against her, jerking and twitching. It seemed to take a horribly long time for him to die, as though he was still determined to…but she wouldn't think of that now. She couldn't really think at all.

            When he was finally still, she pushed him off her and stared down for a moment. She felt no emotion, not even the choking sensation of fear she'd experienced even a few seconds ago. Was he still breathing? No, it was just an illusion of the pouring rain. It had already soaked her hair, and she wasn't sure if she was shivering from the cold or the aftereffects of shock. 

            After a few moments, she realized she couldn't bear to stare down at him any longer. She turned around and went back inside. 

Reno, she quickly saw, was engaged in a struggle of his own. The two men were locked body-to-body, each fighting with all the strength he possessed. At last Lirves gave out, but when Reno struck down the other man cut upward with his curved blade. Reno twisted off to the side; Elena could not see how badly he was hurt. Then the Turk managed to get Lirves under the nightstick. Elena could _see the waves of electricity wracking the man's body, but, amazingly, Lirves got to his feet. Reno, who hadn't let up the pressure, at last broke away when it became impossible to maintain contact. Lirves struck again with the blade, Reno evaded it. Then he moved in again, turning sideways to plow into Lirves with his shoulder, sending the other man crashing through a store display window. A sudden siren went off, red lights flashed about. Reno hesitated a moment, looking like he wanted to finish off Lirves. But he shook his head and instead ran toward Elena. _

            "Let's go!" he yelled over the noise. "The alarm will draw every enemy within hearing!"

            Once outside Reno checked at the sight of the body, giving Elena a sidelong look. She shook her head, and he said nothing. She was able to force thoughts of the man she had killed away as she ran, grateful for his silence.

            At last they left the sound of the alarm behind. Reno slowed them to a walk, breathing heavily. He was bleeding from a sword wound in his upper torso. Red blood soaked the white work shirt under the jacket.

            "It's nothing," he said curtly when she asked about it. "Nothing I can't handle." Suddenly he stopped and grasped her chin in his hand. He turned her face to inspect a swelling bruise along the side of her mouth. "And you," he said quietly. "How did this happen?"

            The full impact of the blond man's intentions for her struck her to the core. He had been about to rape her, force her. It anguished Elena greatly, and on top of the rest of the night it was too much. She started sobbing wildly, whether for herself, the lives she'd ended, or her own lost innocence she would never know. What made it worse was the way Reno stood looking at her, as if the sight of a crying woman was something new to him. Try as she might, she simply could not stifle the tears, and all of her rage and shame made her cry harder. At last Reno took her arm and led her beneath the eve of a nearby building. It wasn't much, but it was a little drier, and Elena collapsed on the stone step with her face in her hands.

            Reno sat beside her. He didn't hold her or touch her; that wasn't Reno's way. He simply waited, albeit a little uncomfortably, for her to finish. By the time she had, he was resisting the urge to light a cigarette…or a pack.

            She sat, sniffling, and rubbed at her already blotchy face. "I'm sorry," she apologized in a subdued voice. Reno said only, "Sector 2 is still a ways from here. We went by the train station, so-"

            The thought of the long walk home, and then a sleepless night alone, terrified her. "No," she said quickly. "I don't want to…" She stopped, sniffling again. 

            Reno sighed, looking as though he wanted to be impatient, but didn't have the heart to turn her away. He rubbed his eyes wearily, saying, "What do you want to do, then?"

            "I don't know," was her broken reply. "I just don't want to be alone."

            Reno thought for a moment, then stood up. "Okay, then," he announced. "We'll go to Rude's."

            Elena looked up. "Rude's?" she repeated.

            "Yeah, he lives nearby. He'll let us crash at his place tonight." He put out a hand to help her up, and, after a moment, she took it.

            "Are you sure he won't mind?" she asked.

            Reno grinned. "What, mind?" he said, feeling like he ought to try and cheer her up. "When a hot babe and his best friend show up at his door in the middle of the night? No way!" 

            It had the desired reaction; after a second she gave a small smile and hopped down the stone steps. "We can tell him all about what happened," she suggested. 

            "That's right," he agreed. "And maybe we can call up Tseng…throw a Turk slumber party…"

            At those words, Elena colored a bit, realizing she was about to spend the night with two grown men, but shrugged it off. She felt more kindly toward Reno, now that he had saved her life more time than she could count. Still, she was glad Rude would be there, too.

~

            Rude pulled open the door long after Elena was sure Reno's hollering would pull down the apartment building around their ears. She stood a little ways off to the side, feeling distinctly uncomfortable and a bit ashamed.

            When Rude finally opened the door, Elena almost didn't recognize him. He was as tall and imposing as ever, his muscular frame almost filling the doorway. But he was shirtless, in fact he wore only a wrinkled pair of sweatpants. The sight startled her, for she had only seen Rude in uniform before. But what confused her even more was Rude's face- he wasn't wearing his sunglasses, and for the first time she saw he had an ugly, purplish scar crossing over one eye.

            He said nothing, simply looked at them for a moment. Elena suddenly realized how they had to look in his eyes: exhausted, soaked from the rain, battered and bloodied. She knew her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and her bruised mouth ached. What would Rude make of them?

            He said not a word, but after that first startled glance stepped aside to let them in. Reno clapped his friend on the shoulder as he went by, but Elena lowered her eyes, knowing Rude probably thought her presence was the oddest thing of all. Reno's sudden arrival in the middle of the night might not have been a rare occurrence, but hers was. 

            Once Rude had closed the door and turned to face them, Reno gave a sardonic smile and disappeared into the adjoining kitchen. This left Elena alone with the other Turk. Rude's questioning eyes had never left her. 

            "We were…attacked," she said lamely, realizing she owed him some sort of explanation. "They had guns, and…" She buried her face in her hands, close to tears once again. "God, I was so scared!" 

            Rude stepped nearer to her and touched her shoulder comfortingly. She thought she heard him heave a quiet sigh.

            The sound of Reno clearing his throat impatiently made her look up. Reno stood there, waving three beers in their direction. Rude stepped over to take one.

            Reno grinned mockingly as he held one of the bottles out to her. When she hesitated he said, "Sorry, babe. The big guy-" he indicated Rude "-doesn't have white wine. Take it or leave it." 

            He had reverted from the calm, cool professional back to the mocking jerk she detested. She glared as she grabbed the beer from his hand. Reno winked, then leaned against the wall nearby. After a moment he flipped a switch, flooding Rude's apartment in light.

            At least Rude lived a little neater than his friend, but at the moment Elena didn't care. She took a gulp of the beer and almost choked on the bitter taste. She caught sight of Reno fighting back laughter and threw her head back, chugging the rest of the bottle. When she had finished, she set the drink aside.

She smiled confidently. There, that would stop him from making fun of her. She wasn't use to drinking alcohol, but she had polished off a whole bottle in no time flat, and she felt fine…

            She shivered involuntarily and then Rude's concerned hands were supporting her. She tried shrugging them off, but a wave of dizziness struck her, and she let him help. 

            "Alcohol lowers your body temperature," Rude said, shooting Reno a reproving glance. "I'll give you some dry clothes." Gripping her arm, he led her down the hall.

            She had forgotten her uniform was soaking wet and clinging to her body. How…? She vaguely recalled running around in the dark. avoiding gunshots. When had that happened? It seemed a lifetime ago.

            She leaned tiredly against the doorframe of the bedroom as Rude dug around in a dresser drawer. At last he came out with a large white t-shirt. Elena could see it would be huge on her, easily hanging down to her thighs.

            She giggled suddenly. What did she care how big it was? It would be warm and dry. With that thought in mind, she began flinging off her wet clothes. Rude's restraining hand on her arm stopped her.  

            "Wait until I leave the room." He sounded faintly amused.

            Another wave of dizziness hit her, and nausea came with it. Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen if Rude hadn't caught her.

            "Elena, you're drunk off one beer," he said, studying her closely. "When was the last time you ate something?"

            The thought of food made her nauseous. "Rude, stay with me tonight," she begged. "Don't leave me alone."

            He eased himself gently from her grasp. "Reno and I will be right in the next room, Elena. You have nothing to be afraid of."

            "I thought so, too," she murmured. "That was before he…" How many had she killed? Three, or was it four? She couldn't remember.

            He pushed her firmly away from him. "Get changed and go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning." He left, shutting the door behind him.

            As Elena proceeded to get changed, she heard the other two talking in the next room.

            "Took you long enough," Reno said. "I thought you were screwing her or something." 

            Of course Elena's first response was indignation laced with contempt, but it faded. Reno was probably as afraid and upset as she'd been. Maybe more. It was only natural he might try to release it by bantering with his friend.

            She didn't hear Rude say anything, but he must have done something, because Reno said, "Don't give me that look. Just because you haven't had a date in years doesn't fool me. I saw you look at her. Attractive girl, isn't she?"

            Elena felt a moment's annoyance, but another wave of dizziness drowned it out. She crawled into Rude's unmade bed, wondering vaguely if he would mind her using it.

            "No, she handled herself pretty well," Reno was saying. "I mean, it's obvious she'll never be a professional, but she surprised me." He paused, then said more softly, "We should tell her, Rude."

            "No," Rude said in a sharper tone than she'd ever heard him use. "Tseng will handle it when the time comes. Until then, we follow orders."

            "He wasn't there tonight, Rude. I was!" Reno sounded angry. _Why? Elena wondered with a sort of detached interest. __Why is he angry?_

_            She heard Rude sigh heavily. "We'll ask Tseng about it tomorrow. There's nothing we can do now."_

            "Fine." Reno didn't sound happy, though.

            Elena listened a while longer, but all they began to do was fight over who had to take the couch. She never discovered who did, because within another moment she was asleep.

~

            She woke feeling sick. Elena started to sit up, but her stomach suddenly rebelled. She lay down again until the nausea subsided, then sat up, more slowly this time.

            At first, she was confused. Where was she? She didn't recognize this place- oh. When it all came back to her, she distantly recalled Rude telling her she was drunk. Elena bit back a laugh. She'd never been drunk before in her life, but hanging around two distinguished alcoholics, _that was sure to change!_

            Out in the living room, Reno was still stretched out on the floor, wrapped in a woolen blanket. He yawned and opened his eyes when she walked in.

            "Hey, 'Lena," he greeted her, then eyed her up and down. "You've got nice legs, babe."

            She threw him a disgusted glare and stalked into the kitchen. It was hard to keep her dignity while wearing only a shirt that didn't quite reach her knees, but she tried anyway.

            Rude was cooking eggs on the stove. Elena walked over and watched him.

            "Thank you," she said softly, "for being so kind."

            He glanced at her. "It's nothing," he said matter-of-factly. "Turks look out for each other."

            Reno stepped into the kitchen, massaging his head and complaining of a hangover. He, like Rude, was shirtless, wearing only the blue pants of his uniform. She saw a shallow cut along his side and remembered how he'd been injured protecting her. She decided to ignore his comment about her legs and opened her mouth to ask how he'd slept, but Rude set a plate of eggs on the table and directed her to sit.

            'I'm, I'm not hungry," she stammered. The smell of food was bothering her stomach.

            "Eat," Rude ordered, pushing her into the chair. "It'll make you feel better."

            Obediently she began to pick at the eggs. Reno sat in a chair next to her and helped himself to the food.

            "Rude and I are going to try to figure out who those punks from last night are," he told her through a mouthful. "If we can find them, we can put an end to Sir Lirves the Turd." 

            Elena grinned involuntarily. "Maybe Tseng knows something?" she asked.

            "You mean the Ripper," Reno commented. 

            Rude nodded and sat on her other side. "We'll ask. If anyone knows all the scum in the city, it's Tseng." Naturally, Reno seemed to find that funny and began snickering into his food.

            Something struck her memory. _We'll ask Tseng…_The conversation she'd overheard came back to her. She looked up. "Who got the couch?"

            "Neither," Reno said proudly. "I told Rude that if he thought I was such an invalid I couldn't sleep on the floor, _he _needed a softer place to put his bald head. Then he said…" He trailed off. "You heard us?"

            "Every word." Elena pushed the plate away. She wasn't hungry anymore.

            Reno seemed to be smothering laughter. Rude, on the other hand, quickly got up and busied himself with wiping the counter. 

            "What is it I should know?" Elena demanded, trying hard to keep calm.

            Reno appeared to be losing his fight. "Even…" he giggled, "the part about your boobs?"

            She shot straight up, clutching the collar of her shirt. "What?" she yelled. "I didn't hear anything like _that_!"

            "Don't tease her, Reno." Rude said quietly.

            "Why?" Reno demanded, suddenly mirthless and irritated. "You're just mad because someone besides me knows you're still a virgin!"

            Rude shot the redhead a black look, then turned sharply and walked out. Elena bit her lip, keeping silent. The obvious tension dragged on until Reno sighed and pushed back his chair.

            "That was outta line," he said, as if reprimanding himself. "Tell him I'm sorry, all right?"

            "Are you leaving?" she asked, not quite understanding what was happening. "Why was Rude so mad, anyway?"

            "There was a woman…" Reno shook his head. "Nah, it's not my story to tell. Yeah, I'm leaving." He stood up.

            Elena ran her fingers through her hair. "Where are you going?"

            Reno grinned. "Don't you remember? I have business to attend to."

~

            Elena sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Rude's car. Both of them were dressed in uniform, although Elena's was wrinkled from drying on the floor last night. Her hair was still wet. Rude had been kind enough to allow her to use his shower. In fact, he had been extremely gracious about the whole ordeal, and waved away her thanks. But he'd been quiet and rather withdrawn since the minor argument with Reno, and Elena didn't want to bother and anger him. She couldn't picture him angry with her, but she recognized Rude needed his space.

            She looked up when he parked the car in front of a small café. "What are we doing?"

            He turned off the ignition. "We're already late enough for work," he said without looking at her. "A few minutes won't make a difference."

            She followed him out of the car and into the diner. He selected a secluded booth in a corner and ordered two cups of coffee from the smiling waitress. When she left Elena looked at him oddly.

            "What's this all about, Rude?"

            He smiled. "Pretty quick, aren't you?"

            She shrugged. "I just know it's not coffee you want to talk about."

            The smile disappeared. He reached across the table to touch the swelling bruise on her mouth. "How did this happen?" he asked gently. "I know Reno has been less than respectful to you, but I didn't think-"

            "Oh no, it wasn't Reno," she said hastily. "I killed the guy who did this to me."

            At first Rude grinned, then slowly realized she wasn't joking. He took off his sunglasses for a moment and met her eyes. Even though she had already seen it, the sight of that ugly scar still startled her a bit. And yet, his brown eyes were human, and she thought it was worth looking at the scar to be able to see him like a human being, a real person.

            "I'm sorry, Elena," he said simply. 

            She wasn't sure why he was apologizing, exactly, but cast her eyes down. It was good to be able to see his face, but his gaze just then was a little too intense, a little too personal. She just wanted to forget last night, rather than let Rude bring her back to it.

            He had just replaced the shades when the waitress arrived with their coffee. Rude accepted his without looking at her. "Thank you," he said dismissively. 

            The woman didn't get the hint. "Will there be anything else?" she asked cheerfully.

            "No." Rude sipped his coffee. 

            "We have some lovely hash browns fresh off the oven," the waitress chattered. "And delicious-"

            "I said 'no'," Rude said sternly.    

            For the first time, the woman looked at him closely, taking in the tell-tale blue uniform, the dark glasses. "Oh! I'm so sorry, sir!" she yelped, dipping her head. She looked from Rude to Elena, added, "Coffee's on the house," and scurried away.

            Rude saw the question in Elena's eyes and shook his head before she asked. "Save it, Elena," he said wearily. "If you heard us last night you already know I don't want to tell you."

            _But Reno does, _Elena remembered. _Reno wants me to know whatever it is they're hiding._ She resolved to ask him first chance she got.

            Whatever the reason for her silence, Rude was grateful for it. He sipped his coffee for lack of anything else to do. Elena's brown eyes studied him, waiting. Looking at her, he could see how young, how untried she was. But he could also see how different she had become after just one night. There was something about her, now, a maturity that wasn't there before. There was sadness, too; Rude could see it in her eyes and the set of her mouth.

            _Tseng wanted to spare her this_, he thought. _But now it's been thrust on her, and all at once. _He felt a moment's pity for the girl, for her lost innocence. And more than a moment's anger. This whole thing was Tseng's fault. He never had to hire her, he could have stopped it somehow. And even if he couldn't, he should've at least told her the truth. Now everything was that much harder for her.

            But that wasn't important right now. He forced his mind back to the task at hand. He had to interrogate her.

            "Elena," he said. "Try an remember. Do you have any idea who the gunmen may be working for?"

            She shook her head, fixing her blond hair absently. "I never got a clue. Although…" She paused.

            "Although what?" Rude pressed. 

            "The man who tried to rape me." She tapped her fingers nervously, thinking back. "He said…what was it…'He didn't mention you'." She looked up, puzzled. "The way he said it made it sound like they'd been expecting Reno, but not me. Does that help?"

            "Maybe," Rude muttered, considering. It didn't strike him as a upraising against the Turks. Something told him this went far deeper.

            Elena stirred her coffee, adding cream and a little sugar. Rude looked worried, which was odd, because he rarely showed human emotion. The knowledge that he could intrigued her.

            Rude suddenly spoke. "He tried to rape you?"

            "Yes," she replied, finding the question unusual. "That is, I think so."

            He leaned forward. "Elena," he said with such violence it scared her, "if that _ever_ happens again, I want you to yell for me. I don't care where it is or who's nearby. Yell for me, and I'll come."

            "Why?" she asked hesitantly. "I can handle myself."

            "Because," he said with that same unmistakable anger, "I know you can kill him. But- I and only I- can make him _beg _for death."

            She wanted to ask "why" again, but was stunned by the untamed menace in his voice. Elena had seen only kindness from Rude. It disturbed her to know he might have another side, a frightening side. 

            Rude stood up, draining his coffee. Elena noted he had not left a tip for the waitress. "Let's go," he said.

            Elena followed him out to the car. As he started to turn the key in the ignition, she reached over and put her hand over his. "Rude," she said softly. "Please. Tell me what I should know. It's not right, keeping it from me. You know it isn't."

            He stared at her for a long moment. Elena waited, feeling as though those piercing eyes behind the lenses might strip her soul from her body. She tried hard not to fidget.

            She suddenly remembered the pulsing venom in his voice when he told her to call for him. She dearly hoped he would never have cause to direct such anger at her. 

            _No__! a part  of her mind screamed. __Rude's so gentle! Then she remembered the hand flexing in that black glove, and wondered how she could have ever forgotten. _

            "No," he said abruptly, turning the key. Elena's hand fell away aw the engine roared to life. She turned sharply away, staring out the window. 

            "Elena," he said quietly after a few minutes. "Reno told me you followed him home. Will you tell me why?" 

            She recalled Professor Hojo's warning that he and Reno might be traitors, and her own vehement protest that Rude would never do such a thing. 

            But he was hiding something from her, though she couldn't fathom the reason. And suddenly she didn't want to know what it was anymore. 

            As he looked at him it seemed she could sense pity behind the dark lenses. 

            "No," she said flatly, turning back to the window. 

            They drove the rest of the way to work in silence.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

            Reno arrived back at his condominium change into a new uniform. The one he'd worn last night last night was wrinkled and stiff with blood and rainwater. (He'd left it at Rude's, except for the pants) He had a few spares- years as a Turk had taught him the necessity of being prepared. Despite the initial feeling of rebellion, he'd taken to the job well, as Tseng must have foreseen. Rude had, to. Reno had never had any desire, after becoming a Turk, to change his profession, his job, his identity. 

            And yet, today he did.

            It was Elena's fault, that much he knew. Her arrival had ruined everything, disrupted the steady rhythm of life for the three of them. She was upsetting the fragile waters of tranquility by her presence. The order of things was thrown out of balance- to return, she either had to be hauled out or drown. And Reno wasn't sure if, given a choice, he would decline either option for himself.

            Once inside his condo, he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and collapsed on the couch. He suddenly felt very weary, and very old. He wanted to blame it on last night, but he knew that wasn't it. Last night had been a rare moment for him…a moment when he'd felt truly alive.

            _Too much, Tseng would say, frowning. _It's because you drink too much.__

_            He popped open the tab with a practiced flip of his fingers. Was it possible to will oneself into alcoholism? Certainly; what had happened to him was no accident. It was so easy, not to care, just to will oneself into oblivion…_

            Elena. Because of her, that was impossible. It was either haul her our or let her drown.

            _Or pull her in…_

            He banished the thought from his mind. Elena? It was madness. As much as the woman annoyed him, he didn't hate her enough to do _that. She wasn't trapped, like the rest of them. She had a life to live. _

            And besides, he'd never been the trainer, just the trainee…

            What was there left? Somebody had to take action, and it didn't seem like Tseng had any great ideas. For a moment, it was almost funny…the Ripper was as helpless as the rest of them.

            But he wasn't. Tseng could pull Elena out. And if he refused…well, Reno had tried his hand at training, once. He was sure he could get the knack of it again. 

            He closed his eyes, feeling like he was about to throw up. For the first time in years, he wanted _out_. It was becoming difficult to stand under the pressure, the _need_ to give himself over to the madness, the lust to kill until all his problems went away. How easy, to blame them on everyone else.

            _Watch your back, Tseng, he thought dazedly. _I wouldn't trust me to do it for much longer…__

_            Rude didn't trust him either, he remembered. How strange; he and Rude had shared everything until Elena. Now they were all keeping secrets from each other, to protect each other. But was that really true? Did Tseng want to protect Elena for her or for himself? Was he afraid for his career, for his position in society? For that matter, was that why Rude didn't want to tell her, either? _

            But she was handling herself. She was stronger than she appeared. At least she had some degree of honesty about her. She'd cried, the previous night. It had been the first time she'd killed, in all probability. The first time she'd been in serious danger. It was rather pitiful,

but she didn't realize she was only sinking in deeper…

            His thoughts were becoming hazy, indistinct. He forced his mind back to a more important subject: Last night's attack.

            Lirves. He had to find out about him. And even if no one knew him by name, it would be kind of hard to forget a guy with a mechanical arm. It would be worth asking around, while he had the time.

            But he was tired…so tired. It could wait a while.

            Reno had nearly drifted off to sleep when the crying sound woke him. He rolled over, then cursed when the can of booze slipped from his grasp to puddle on the floor. He got up, rubbed a hand over his eyes, and went to see.

            The cat was there, as he'd known it would be, sitting patiently on his front stood. It looked at him hopefully.

            "Go away!" Reno snapped, shutting the door in its face. He sighed, then went to find a clean shirt. As long as he was up, he might as well make use of his time. 

            Lirves was a threat, he knew that much; but was he after Reno or Elena? More likely Reno; it was unlikely the guy would be interested in the little ditz.

            Perhaps it was another protest group, like AVALANCHE. Reno bit back a laugh; the pathetic little crew of mercenaries and full-breasted chicks could hardly compare to the trained, professional gunmen of last night. Well, no matter. The threat would have to be extinguished. Rude and Elena would be busy hunting out Sephiroth today. Reno could take care of Lirves.

            He booted the cat aside as he set out into the street and glanced up at the overcast sky. Things were looking up.

            He suddenly laughed out loud, all of his old vigor back. Was he insane, wanting to quit? Defeat was not something Reno the Turk accepted. Grinning, he ran a finger over his nightstick.

            Not defeat. Never defeat.            

**~And now, a note from the Author~**

Hi! Long time no see. Yes, the fault mostly lies within my own laziness, but I also broke my computer for a few months….Oh yes. More chapters are on the way (I  have the next four or five all done- in longhand, though) 

**A word about Lirves. Yes, I'm well aware he is so far nothing but a generic villain made to increase the action of the plot, but there is more to him. I just can't tell you right now. ^^**

**And finally, for those who are getting increasingly disgusted with Elena, (such as my editor), relax. She's learning, as we are beginning to see. And, before someone brings it up, I am not at the moment planning on inter-Turk couples. But if you feel you have to bring it up, go ahead, I won't get mad. (like I have any right to)**

**And thank you, everyone, for sticking with me and actually reading this. Have a sparkling day! **

**                                                                                     ~Love, Lila **


	14. Interrogation

Interrogation 

            Nik had just opened his store, even though it was already late morning, He'd been busy; some of Lirves' men had come by again. It was only with a great deal of threats and promises on his part he had gotten rid of them. Now he had lost nearly four hours of business.

            The trailer he used as his store was hung with an array of axes, swords, staves, gloves. Weapons were his trade, and he did fairly well. In the dank slums of Midgar, everyone needed something to fight with, even women and older children. Even that young flowergirl, Aeris Gainsborough, came by occasionally, and Nik couldn't conceive the notion of her hurting anybody. Of course, she had to know how to defend herself; he'd seen the Turks come by her home more than once. Oddly enough, they always left peacefully. It was always the same guy. Some tall, dark-haired creep with grey eyes…

            It was then the door of the trailer opened. A tall, red-haired man with a swagger in his step strolled in, looking about as if interested in making a purchase. Nik sneered, knowing better; the redhead wore the hated blue uniform.

            "What do you want?" Nik said without grace. The Turk gave up the pretense and ambled over. He had a haunted look in his eyes that even his mocking half-smile couldn't displace. Nik took note of this as the redhead replied.

            "Nik Valline, the weapons merchant. I know about you. Your work is said to be the finest in the sector."

            "So it's said," the merchant snapped, unmoved by flattery. "State your business."

            The man's crooked smile grew wider. "I've asked around, and I was wondering if you sold a certain curved style of blade with a tapered edge. One of my friends has one, and I was considering purchasing one as well. My other sword's getting rusty." 

            Nik did not hesitate. To hesitate would reveal all. "I do. Three hundred gil."

            The Turk leaned forward, putting his elbows on the counter. "Do you know my friend? His name is Lirves, and I haven't seen him for some time."

            "No," Nik snarled, tensing.

            "Lirves spoke very highly of you," the redhead went on. "He would hate for something to…happen…to you. But, altogether, I don't think the death of a weapons seller would trouble him overly. Do you?"

            Nik started. He'd been studying the Turk, and he suddenly _realized. He swallowed to conceal his excitement. "Your threats are wasted," he said shortly. "I don't know him."_

            "Oh, I'm sure you do." The redhead made a show of considering. "Yes. You're the only merchant in the city who sells these blades. Are you _certain you don't remember?" There was an edge to the Turk's voice now._

            Nik shook his head, one hand edging for the counter. "I'm afraid not. What did you say your name was?" He had to be sure.

            "I didn't. But I'm sure you'll recognize it. You see, I'm Reno, the one you've been told to look out for." Abruptly the smile vanished, and the Turk leaned over the counter, holding an electrical rod an inch from his throat. "And I lied. I don't use a blade." The smile returned, by far more terrifying that the lack of expression.

            Nik kept his eyes on the weapon. He knew what it was, and worse, what it could do. "Reno. Quick one, aren't you? I didn't have a chance."         

            Reno smirked. "None. Now, let's make this easy, so I won't have to hurt you too much." Electricity cracked the air in front of Nik's face. 

            "I'll answer your questions," he said hurriedly. "Yes, I know Lirves." Let the bastard think he was weakening.

            "What does he want?"

            "I don't know." Too late, Nik realized his mistake- the nearness of the nightstick made it increasingly difficult to think. "Wait! I-"

            The nightstick scorched his throat; torrents of electricity jerked his body in to the back wall. Knife and sword points stabbed into his back, but that pain was nothing compared to the live, wracking agony of the nightstick.

            Reno, half-standing on the counter, pulled the weapon away. As Nik tried to recover, the Turk gracefully swung the rest of the way over the counter to stand in front of the merchant. Nik backed up frantically, but there was nowhere to run.

            "I'll ask again," Reno said softly, "then I'll have to hurt you. What does Lirves want?"

            Nik, severely shaken, tried to collect his thoughts. "H-he doesn't explain his motives to me. But I think he works for somebody. Somebody who wants to get rid of the Turks."

            Reno seemed to accept this answer. "AVALANCHE?" he mused aloud. "No, they've already left the city. Is this something new…a conspiracy?"

            Nik made for the knife again, but without even looking up, Reno's hand snaked out and caught his wrist. "Don't try that. I'm not in the mood. How long have you known Lirves?"

            "About two days."       

            Reno flipped the nightstick upside down and backhanded Nik across the face. "Don't lie to me. How long?"

            "Two weeks," Nik said reluctantly, clutching his bleeding nose. The bastard was like a damn lie detector!

            Reno nodded. "How did he come by that mechanical arm?"

            Nik shook his head. "I don't know." As Reno raised his hand again he cried, "I'm not lying! He never told me, I swear it."

            The Turk let his arm drop. "How did you meet?"

             Nik shrugged. "I received a notice about a month ago telling me to make a certain kind of customized blade. It came with blueprints and instructions. I'm no blacksmith, so I forwarded the notice to my supplier. A few weeks later, Lirves came in for it. He told me a few things, made me swear to keep silent, and left."

            "Two weeks," Reno muttered. He looked up. "What does he look like?" he demanded.

            Nik eyed the nightstick warily, then decided to answer. "He's old, but young. I mean, he's got a young face and body, but his hair is iron-grey, and he speaks and acts as though he's had decades of experience."

            "Grey hair and a young face," Reno repeated, frowning. The vague description didn't help much, but other than the arm, it was unlikely Lirves would have many distinctive features. Another dead end? No. He just wasn't asking the right questions, that was all.

            Maybe a more direct approach would work. Reno leaned back against the counter, allowing Nik a bit more room to maneuver. The nightstick stayed out, though. "Tell you what, Nik. If you can answer me this one question, I'll let you live."

            The merchant snorted, and Reno smiled. He noticed for the first time that Nik was a fairly young man, perhaps only five or ten years older than Reno himself.

            "What's the question?" he snarled.

            Reno almost laughed. "Don't be so eager. I just want to know what you and your friends plan to do with me, if you actually capture me. What's your motive?"

            Nik didn't bother answering. 

            This time, Reno _did _laugh. He had already known Nik had no idea. "I thought so. I'm sorry, but I have no more use for you now." He booted Nik in the side, throwing the merchant to the cement floor. Nik grabbed for a knife, but couldn't reach before Reno stepped on his wrist with enough force to break it,

            "You see," Reno said conversationally as he pressed the nightstick to the side of Nik's head, "I didn't get much sleep last night. Your buddies were busy trying to kill me. So you'll forgive me if I'm a little cranky." 

            Nik heard none of this, he heard nothing over his own screams. Far away, some rational part of his mind told him to make another grab for the knife, but he couldn't make his hand move, couldn't- 

            The pain stopped abruptly. Reno grabbed him by the shirt collar and lifted him to his feet. Nik swayed dizzily, wondering how in the world one ordinary-looking man could possess such bizarre strength. He was trying to gather courage to fight back, but Reno didn't give him a chance and hurled him into the back wall. The thin side of the trailer shuddered, and a loose plate of glass from the window above smashed to the floor. Pieces of glass rained in his hair. Nik shook his head and grasped the wall with one hand, trying to rise up. He couldn't make his eyes focus very well, but he could sort of see the tall figure of the Turk stride toward him. Nik tensed, then dove to the floor, grappling for the knife he'd left by Reno's feet. With a derisive smile, the Turk kicked it out of the way. Nik watched it skitter across the floor like a frightened mouse in the path of an oncoming cat. 

            Reno said nothing, didn't even provide a reprimand for Nik's last valiant try for the knife. He simply raised the nightstick and brought it down on the man's skull. Then again, and again, beating him until strings of blood flew in the air with each new blow. 

            Then it stopped. 

            "Well, well. Looks like we have a guest." The quality of Reno's voice had changed- it had become malicious, reeking of mad glee, swimming in the violence he had brought to life. 

            Nik managed to lift his head enough to see the trailer door swinging open. Standing in the doorway was Heather, his wife. A native of Wutai he'd met in his days as a soldier, she'd feared him before she'd loved him- and he'd loved that she feared him. Her vulnerable, frightened look had him in an instant, her petrified shrinking that brought a heady rush to every fiber of his being. 

            Heather looked exactly the same now, seven years later, coming into her husband's store to find him choking on his own blood. The red-haired demon loomed over him, arrogant and mocking. And Nik suddenly realized that this moment of horror would not turn into rebellious love, that there would be no waking from this nightmare. 

            But he could still choose how it would end.

            Half-rising to his knees, Nik threw himself into Reno's side. Luckily for him, it was the same side Lirves had sliced open the night before. Reno landed hard on his shoulder, slamming his broken arm against the floor. The nightstick flew from his grasp.

            "Call Lirves!" Nik ordered, flinging himself on the fallen Turk. "Heather! Tell him to send-" He broke off as Reno elbowed him in the face. Blood streamed again from his nose. Nik made a fist and tried to punch him, but Reno twisted aside and kneed him in the stomach. As Nik went down, Heather let out a scream and ran back outside.

             Reno jumped up and scrambled for the nightstick. Nik grabbed at his legs and pulled him down. The Turk hit the floor with a satisfying crack.

            Groping blindly along the floor, Nik encountered a long shard of glass. Gathering his strength, he raised his arm and brought down the glass with all his force. He caught Reno a glancing blow along the ribcage, but the Turk was already rolling away. Desperate, Nik kicked him in the side as hard as he could. Reno grunted and tried to crawl for the nightstick, but Nik tackled him and attacked again. This time, the blade struck home, slicing along Reno's stomach. Nik couldn't tell how badly the Turk was hurt, but Reno gave a choked gasp and lashed out with his fist, catching the merchant in the side of the head. Nik slid away, trying to catch his breath. 

            Reno paused as he slowly got to his feet. He seemed to be deliberating whether to go for the nightstick or attack Nik with his bare hands. Nik stared him down, promising silently that if the Turk turned his back he wouldn't survive. Reno shrugged.

            "Okay. You got me. Without my weapon, I'm powerless." That crooked smile was beginning to emerge. "Right?"

            Nik hesitated. Before he could move, Reno grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. Choking and gasping, Nik managed to bring up the glass and tear at the Turk's jugular, drawing blood. Reno dropped him sharply.__

_            He was starting to move in again when the Turk kicked him in the jaw. Nik fell back for a moment, stunned, and Reno had the nightstick. He stepped toward the merchant, green eyes burning hatred. And anticipation._

            Nik lay, breathing hard, sprawled against the wall. He saw the look of cruel pleasure pass across the Turk's face, and he knew, he _knew he had no chance. Still, he made one last, desperate try. He lunged for Reno, hoping to sever the artery pulsing behind the heel. With the killer disabled, he might be able to make a run for it…_

            Reno smiled and stepped aside. Nik landed on his stomach, the somewhat pitiful lunge wasted. He heard laughter above him.

            "Oh, you're a bright one," Reno sneered. "You think you can take me out when all of those gunmen hardly scratched me?" He shook his head, the smile slowly vanishing. "Don't get me wrong. Generally, I'm a nice guy." The nightstick switched on. "Just not recently." 

            Nik fingered the splinter in his hand. He thought of Heather, of their young children. He thought of the lives he'd taken in the war.

            "Burn in hell," he whispered, and plunged the shard of glass into his own throat. He was dead in seconds. 

~

A starving man denied food and drink. A miser robbed. A new mother who finds her baby has died in her arms.

            This was Reno's world. He had been denied the pleasure of causing another pain. He screamed, he swore, he kicked the lifeless body aside. There was a slight smirk on the dead face, as though Nik knew he had the last laugh. It was all the more infuriating.

            "Fucker!" Reno shrieked, kicking Nik again. "Stupid, motherfucking-" Unable to force anymore words out, he fell to his knees on the floor, panting, hating, hating…

            After a time, Reno raised his head. Cold logic had taken over, and he was in control once more. Rising to his feet, he glanced around the shop.

            Broken glass littered the floor from the smashed window. A rack of weapons had topped over and knives, spears, and swords were scatted everywhere. There was a good deal of blood coating the floor, congealing on the wooden boards. And the body ruled over it all, smirking, mocking, laughing-

            With a yell of pure frustration, Reno turned away and forced himself to walk toward the door. It was easier when he couldn't see that arrogant grin. Once outside the door, his head cleared a bit. He looked down at himself and saw that his uniform- not so clean at the start- was splattered with blood. Wondering, he put a hand to his face and felt the sticky wetness. His hair was stiff with it.

            What the hell. He'd given the guy what for anyway. 

            He suddenly remembered the woman, backing away in fear and horror. What was it Nik had said to her? It was difficult to remember, but it had been important…

            Lirves. _Call Lirves! _

"Son of a _bitch_!" Reno yelled aloud. Had she contacted him yet? Maybe he could find her and silence her first-

            Someone grabbed him roughly by the collar and threw him to the ground. Coughing on the dirt that rose up from the street when he landed, Reno struggled to focus. Standing over him were three large men.

            Reno gave up trying to stand- they'd just knock him down again, anyway- and settled himself quite comfortably on the ground. He smiled up at them charmingly. "Top of the morning to you, gentlemen."

            One, a sandy-brown haired brute with a scowl, reached for him, but a slightly older man with a salt-and-pepper goatee pushed him back. "Don't be stupid. We aren't supposed to kill him."          

            The sandy-haired man grimaced. "I don't care what we're supposed to do. I'm gonna rip him apart."

            The third one, a tall, dark-haired man, cracked his knuckles. When he spoke, though, he sounded calm, almost relaxed. "Check for Nik, Darryn."

            "Don't bother," Reno interrupted placidly from his position on the ground. "I'm sure he's busy merging with the Lifestream about now." His "talk" with Hojo had come back to him and he couldn't help smiling.

            "Pretty proud of yourself, aren't you?" the dark-haired man said quietly. "Check it out, Darryn."

            The sandy-haired man obeyed, stepping into the shop. After a few seconds he ran back out, one hand over his mouth. He dashed over to the curb and threw up.

            Reno snorted. "Wimp."

            The one with the goatee glowered at Reno, but third guy didn't seem to hear. He just stood there, staring off into the distance. It was making Reno uneasy. He had immediately dismissed the other two guys as no threat. But this one seemed to know what he was doing. After a few seconds, he called Darryn back over. 

            "Lot of blood," Darryn muttered, shooting a glare at Reno while wiping a hand over his mouth.

            "Little shithead!" In a flash, the goateed man had a handgun out, cocking it and aiming it for Reno. "I'm gonna blow your brains out!" 

            "Luke," the dark-haired man began warningly, but it was too late.  

            As the shot ran out, Reno pitched to the side, barely avoiding the bullet. Balancing himself with his good arm, he swept out his leg and tripped Luke. As he fell, Reno caught the gun that flew out of his hands. Luke hit the pavement hard.

            A single bullet finished him. Before Reno could switch gears, the dark-haired man fisted him once in the jaw, making Reno's teeth clack together. He bit his tongue and tasted blood. 

            Dazed, he let himself fall, but kept a deathgrip on the gun. He had just enough sense to roll out of the way as his opponent's boot came thundering down. Reno brought the gun up, but- _Why can't I find the trigger?- _fumbled it in his haste. The weapon fell to the ground beside him. The man above him kicked it away. 

            Reno began to realize he was in trouble. He was confused and a little dizzy, and he couldn't seem to think of a rational way to kill his opponent and escape. Those were his goals, right? Kill. Escape. But his mind couldn't seem to put the two together.

            Shit, why couldn't he _think_? A couple of hits to the head didn't do this to Reno the Turk. It took something like a full training session with Wat to make him lose it like this. 

            _But Wat's here don't you remember you saw him just a few days ago and he ran away he was scared…_

Kill. Escape. 

            Was he supposed to do one, or both? Was there even an in-between anymore?

            KILLESCAPE

            He felt for his nightstick, strapped to his belt. He smiled weakly at the dark-haired man and struck.

            The dark-haired man, the one Reno'd assumed knew what he was doing, began shaking and jerking with the currant. His mouth was open to scream, but no sound emerged.

            It made no difference whether they were tough or not- they were all the same when under the nightstick.

            Kill.

            A bullet zinged past his shoulder and Reno jerked away, letting go of the dark-haired man for a moment. His opponent fell limply to the street, breathing in great, gasping, desperate breaths. Not so tough.

            Darryn- how had Reno managed to forget about him?- had found the gun and had it trained on him. The guy's face was red; he was screaming incoherently. He was firing wildly, with no real purpose. 

            Reno looked around for cover and found none.

            Escape.

            He caught sight of the dark-haired man crumbled semi-conscious on the ground. Quickly he crawled toward him and propped him up as a sort of human shield. 

            He was filled with lead almost immediately. Reno, tense and now feeling somewhat giddy, wanted to laugh. This dude was gonna be _Swiss cheese_. At least he was a big guy. 

            Although it seemed like hours, it was only a few seconds before Darryn's gun clicked empty. He looked down at it, swore, and threw the gun aside. 

            There ya go, buddy. Now you're screwed.

            Reno slid out from under the lead-filled carcass. He had a little trouble getting to his feet; the world seemed to be spinning. He held the nightstick out as if for a present.

            "Would you care for a taste, Darryn, my good man?"

            Apparently he didn't. Darryn stared for a moment, then turned and ran. 

            Reno sighed and slumped to the ground. He realized sticky wetness was making his uniform stick to him. It finally occurred to him that maybe not all the blood on him was Nik's.

            Crawling, he somehow made it to the side of the weapon store trailer. Leaning against it, he closed his eyes. Just a few seconds to gather his strength.

            Why were the options always kill and run? He was so tired of running, and killing was starting to lose its thrill, too. It as always the same…ever since Death Row, all the same…          

            "Wake up, you son of a bitch."

            Reno opened his eyes to look up at the barrel of a shotgun, held in the trembling hands of Heather Valline. She had tears running from her eyes, and her already pale skin was so white it was papery, but she held it as though she knew how to use it. 

            "Hey, baby," Reno said languidly, starting to close his eyes again. He was too tired to bother moving. If blowing his head off would make her feel better, so be it.

            The tip of the gun tilted his chin up. Reno opened his eyes a crack to see her jerk her head toward the two dead bodies. 

            "You killed them. You killed my husband too, didn't you." There was, crazy as it seemed, a faint, questioning bit of hope in her tone. She _knew _he wasn't alive, but there was a chance. There was always a chance.

            "I don't remember," Reno muttered. "Why don't you go in the store and check?"

            Her mouth worked, but she couldn't speak. At last, her trembling got so bad the shotgun slipped from her grasp and clattered at her feet. Miracle of miracles, it didn't go off.

            Reno watched dully as she backed away, both hands pressed to her mouth. "Oh, God!" she cried raggedly. "You monster! You don't even care!"

            _Would it make you feel any better to know, lady, that your husband killed himself, not me? I was going to, but I didn't really get the chance. Don't you feel so much better that it wasn't me? _

            "You don't even care!"

            He sighed and, using the wall for support, tried to get to his feet. He staggered and nearly fell, but managed it.

            "It was his fault for getting involved with the wrong people," he told her simply. "I'm sure he knew that perfectly well."

            She wouldn't stop crying. How was he supposed to rest with some chick going hysterical practically in his ear? Reno sighed again, louder this time. Stepping over the shotgun, he started walking.

            Escape.

            He wouldn't mind a nice stiff drink right then. Hell, he wouldn't mind a couple. As he passed Heather Valline, he thought suddenly of Elena. What if some of Lirves' men found her alone?

            More than a couple would do nicely.

            He was halfway up the street when he collapsed.

**~A note from the author~**

**Yes, this was a quicker update. Nice change, hm? I worked really hard on this chapter- let me know what you think! **

**     ~Lila**


	15. The Subverted Flower

The Subverted Flower

            Tseng's gaze was like steel- harsh, cold, and, when forged in the right conditions, deadly. It really was no wonder he was called "the Ripper" behind his back; his very eyes seemed to rip right through his victims. Rude knew Tseng well; he'd been with him through much of Death Row. He'd seen the man start off as a silent, submissive prisoner, bearing pain and humiliation without a murder. And now that prisoner had become master of the remaining cellmates. 

            Rude wondered why those eyes still rattled him.

            "They were _attacked_?" Tseng flung out the question like a whip. 

            Rude gave a single nod. Beside him, Elena flinched, even though Tseng's words had not been directed toward her. Both were standing in Tseng's office: a little room adjoining the Turk staffroom. Their leader often retired to his desk in what was dubbed "his sanctuary" for some peace and quiet, for instance, to get away from Reno's loud cheers (or cursing, depending on who he'd bet) when watching sports on tv. It was the only room on the floor with a desk. Tseng claimed it was because he had a lot of paperwork, but Rude privately thought he slept here. It would certainly explain a lot. 

            Such as why he was so grumpy at the moment. Tseng drummed his fingers on the desktop in a rare show of obvious tension. He frowned, thinking, then looked up. 

            "Elena," he said in a far gentler tone than he'd used with Rude. "Tell me what happened. Every detail, please."

            Elena recounted what had happened, to the best of her memory. She faltered at the part with the attempted rape, but Tseng nodded understandably and waved her on. When at last she finished, ending with their arrival at Rude's (She'd conveniently forgotten to tell her leader of her bout of crying. _That _detail he didn't need to know about!), Tseng again appeared in deep thought. When he spoke, it was with the same iron control they had learned to respect and fear.

            "Where is Reno?"

            Rude shrugged.

            "He's, he's still injured, sir," Elena offered. "What with last night and all, he's probably resting."          

            Tseng smiled mirthlessly. "As much as I'd love to believe it, Elena, it's not likely with Reno." He scowled suddenly. "Dammit! The one day I need him here- and he's 'following orders'!" 

            Rude doubted it as much as his leader. "I'll call him, sir."

            "Thank you," Tseng said curtly. "Right now."

            Rude exited the room, pulling the PHS from his coat pocket.

            Elena shifted uncomfortably. Tseng was bent over his desk, flipping through some documents.

            "Now, Elena," he said absently, "go back to the beginning and tell me the parts you left out. Such as what you were doing at Reno's in the first place."

            Elena fidgeted. She was not a good liar. It had been easy with Rude; he never pressed hard when he sensed the subject was unwilling to answer. Tseng, on the other hand, was not easily put off. Her first instinct was to tell him the truth, that Professor Hojo had hinted at treachery among the Turks, and she was supposed to be his spy.

            Then she remembered Reno and Rude deciding to wait for Tseng to share their secret. Whatever it was, he was in on it, as much as it pained her to admit it.

            He'd looked up by now, his steely eyes seeming to go right through her. She tried to say something, to make up some lie, but she suddenly found it difficult to breathe, let alone speak.

            He got up and came around the desk. "I know you've been through a lot, Elena," he said, kindly, but with that same firm undertone. "Don't worry, I won't be angry with you. Just tell me the truth."

            His condescending tone hit a nerve. She would not be patronized by any of them, especially Tseng! Her mind racing, Elena quickly conjured up a story too personal for him to ask many questions.

            "I…I heard Reno was the reason Sector 7 was destroyed." Her voice did not sound like her own. "My brother…was killed during that accident. I wanted to…to confront Reno about it."         

            Tseng's expression didn't change. "What did he say?"

            "He said…" God, she was a horrible liar! "He said yes, it was true he did it. He was sorry, since it was my brother and all, but defended his actions, since…"

            "Since I was the one who had him do it," Tseng finished for her. "I see." The kindly overtone evaporated. "You're sure, Elena?"

            Her mouth was dry. "I'm sure," she forced out. She disliked lying to Tseng, in fact she abhorred it. But she couldn't make herself tell him the truth until she knew what was going on.

            Rude knocked, then walked in without waiting for an answer. "Reno's not home," he said shortly.

            Tseng let out an exasperated breath. "Why couldn't he have broken his leg so we could be reasonably sure where he was?" he said rhetorically, then shook his head. "No, Rude, don't go looking for him, we don't have time. All three of us are heading out after Cloud today. Reno can wait." He turned to Elena. "I'm sorry. I would send you home for the day, but I need you."

            "I'll be all right, sir." Elena straightened, face brightening considerably.

            He patted her shoulder. "Good for you. You and Rude get ready. I've got a few calls to make."

            She flinched at his touch, yet wished he wouldn't move away. Of course he did, going back to his desk and rifling through more papers with such obvious dismissal it seemed impolite to stay. She stammered a thank you (for what, she couldn't fathom) and followed Rude out the door. Tseng didn't look up.

            Out in the hallway, she ran to catch up to Rude. Those harsh dark lenses he wore were fixed straight ahead, and, seeing them, Elena suddenly recalled how different he looked without them, how humane and gentle he'd seemed…She felt a flash of anger. What was he hiding from the world? She'd noticed the scar, of course, but it wasn't really disfiguring. At least, she suspected it wasn't the reason for the shades. Perhaps Rude simply hid himself from view for the same reason animals blended in with their surroundings: to shield themselves from predators.

            The thought didn't make any sense. Rude had nothing to hide from- he was a Turk! She couldn't think of anything that could scare Rude, crack that solid barrier of stone. Maybe he simply preferred the look.

            "You shouldn't be so afraid of him," Rude said, sitting on the couch in the staffroom.

            She blinked, standing still. "Who? Tseng?"

            Rude nodded. He suddenly got up and went into the small adjoining room. He returned, pulling on a tight leather glove. Elena blanched, but he only made a fist and walked over to a punching bag in the corner. "You're so nervous around him," he said as he slammed his fist into the bag. "Relax. He's not such a bad guy."

            Elena hurried over to the couch and sank down on its edge. "I-I'm not that nervous around him," she demanded quickly. "He's…a little intimidating, that's all."

            Rude spun and delivered a kick to the bag that whirled it around on its hook. "You're stammering."

            "I am not!"

            Suddenly a knock sounded on the door that led out to the hall. Rude continued with his workout, obviously prepared to ignore the knock. Elena jumped up and opened the door.

            It was Kayla, a young receptionist that worked on this floor. Elena had met her when she had first become a Turk. She worked for Heidegger. 

            "What is it, Kayla?" Elena asked, trying to straighten her uniform.

            "I need to see Mr. Tseng," she said, adjusting her square glasses. "It's important, Elena."

            "What's important?" Rude came to stand behind Elena, wiping sweat off his face.

            Kayla gave a frightened squeak; Rude was considerably more imposing and authoritative than his blond partner. "M-Mr. Heidegger sent me, sir. They found a man in the streets, hurt real bad."

            "So what?" Rude said impatiently. "That's not our-"

            Kayla shook her head. "It's Reno. They just brought him in." 

~

            Rude fumbled in his breast pocket for cigarettes, then remembered he'd smoked the last of them earlier that morning. Nervous habits always seemed to have a way of going from bad to worse, didn't they? Especially when you needed something to distract you this badly.

            Reno lay on the stainless steel table in front of them. His skin was ghastly grey underneath a thick layer of dried blood that reminded him absurdly of icing on a cake. Happy birthday, Rude. Your best friend- okay, let's face it, your only real friend is bloody and beaten and unconscious. Make a wish and blow out the candles. 

            Tseng stood stiffly besides him, his face so coldly impassive that Rude wanted to punch him. Did he even give a rat's ass? Or was he just annoyed because it meant he'd have to give out more sick time, maybe even find another replacement?

            Rude knew that wasn't what Tseng was thinking at all, but he was nervous- fuck nervous, he was scared to death- and he didn't have his cigarettes, and when he was scared and he couldn't let it out in any other way he got mad. And since Rude couldn't hit Tseng, he would just have to settle for thinking bad thoughts about him, that was all.

            Elena's presence made it worse. She stood on Tseng's other side, biting her lip, looking determined not to cry or panic or do any of the things she obviously needed to do. Poor kid really shouldn't have to see this stuff.

            Why wasn't anyone _helping_ Reno? What were they waiting for?

            "Why isn't he at the hospital?" Rude demanded softly. Both Tseng and Elena looked at him. Elena seemed surprised by his anger. What, did she expect him to be happy?

            Tseng was standing like the drill sergeant again, a position he seemed to favor when he knew he was the only thing holding them together. All the same, he seemed hesitant.

            "…It would look bad," he said in clipped you-know-the-answer-but-you-just-want-to-hear-it-from-me tones. "Word would get around. Heidegger doesn't think the public should hear about a Turk being beat up on the streets. And the bodies. Too gruesome. It could get ugly if it's not covered up."

            _You can't cover up something like this, _Rude wanted to argue._ It's a busy area of the sector. Lots of people probably saw. And Valline's wife will talk. Unless you sent somebody out there to dispose of her, and you won't talk about that, will you, Tseng? Image is very important to these bastards, and I think it is to you, too._

Out loud he said, "And our call-on-order doctor?"

            "Should be arriving any moment," Tseng said coolly.

            Rude checked Reno's pulse and was relieved to find it was steady. A little too fast, but better than too slow. Blood loss was the thing they had to worry about.

            At last the door behind them opened. A strange man, presumably the medic they'd had to call, strode in. He was a thin, nervous-looking man with a tightness to his mouth that seemed to reflect impatience. Young, for a doctor.

            Hojo glided in behind him.

            "What's _he_ doing here?" Elena said sharply. It was the first time she'd spoken since her first startled "Oh, God!" at the sight of Reno.

            Hojo cackled and rubbed his hands together. "I am always interested in the ways of science, my dear young lady. I am an observer, nothing more. And besides, this _is _my lab you're using."

            That was true. The only sterilized room in the building. In case they had to operate or something.

            Hojo let out one more freaky, high-pitched cackle and then stepped back, melting into the background as the young doctor began to examine Reno.

            "Dr. Cummings," he said curtly, not raising his eyes or offering to shake hands. "Exactly what happened to this man?"

            Tseng explained, to the best of his knowledge. Reno had been found unconscious in Sector 5 by a few soldiers who'd gone for a drink. They'd recognized him, called Headquarters, then searched the area. Nearby were three dead bodies; two unidentified and the third a middle-class/poor weapons merchant, Nik Valline. Valline's throat had been cut, but the other two had been shot. 

            Shinra sent out a truck to bring him in. No emergency vehicles, just an ordinary delivery truck. No need to alarm the public. As they were loading Reno, he woke up a bit and seemed somewhat coherent. He'd started rambling a confused story of what had happened to him. He mentioned Valline's wife, still alive, and told them to stop the car so he could get out and teach her a lesson. After a few minutes, though, his energy depleted, and he'd returned to unconsciousness. And there he'd stayed.

            "Mm." Cummings had a stethoscope and was listening to Reno's heartbeat. "I've been told not to use materia of any kind. Why?"

            Again, it was Tseng who explained. Turks didn't use magic because it had a way of making you soft. The Turk code was based on the individuals survival by using strength and wits, not some half-understood magical stones. Reno, especially, had always seemed rather freaked out by the idea of being healed by the planet's spiritual energies or whatnot.

            By the time Tseng had finished, Hojo was shaking his head and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "fools" under his breath. He shut up when Rude looked at him.

            Cummings had been undoing Reno's shirt while Tseng talked and now he very carefully pulled it open. Shredded skin, which had stuck to the shirt when the blood congealed, pulled away by the force. Elena gasped at the sight and hastily averted her eyes.

            Undeterred, Cummings probed the various wounds. "Looks like he had a run-in with someone very good with a knife," he muttered. "Very good, or very desperate. Not all of the blood is his own."

            "Is he going to die?" Elena blurted, sounding a bit hoarse. 

            The doctor seemed surprised. "What? Oh, no. He's a hardy fellow. It looks bad, but none of these are especially deep." He pulled apart one of the cuts to spray it with antiseptic. "You see? If he'd been a little slower, that might have disemboweled him, but he got lucky. Now, this here-" He indicated a somewhat deep slash on Reno's throat- "had me worried, but it missed the artery. He's been through worse; you can tell by these scars. Now…" He suddenly frowned. "What caused these burn marks? All over his back and chest. Some on his face, too. A fire? But they seemed to be almost overlapping-"

            Tseng cleared his throat. "What can you do for him?"

            Looking annoyed at being interrupted, Cummings answered coolly, "He'll need stitches here, on the forehead, on this slash on the chest, and the rest should be bandaged. Blood loss is the problem. He may have a concussion, but I can't check without my equipment, and anyway I doubt it. The biggest problem seems to be exhaustion." He paused. "Is this man a drinker?"

            Tseng rolled his eyes but said nothing. Elena sniffed.

            "Yeah," Rude finally admitted.

            The doctor shook his head. "He's burning the candle at both ends. Tell this boy to get some rest, not get excited, and for God's sake stay out of the bar. Tell him to try water. His liver'll thank him for it. " He began to pack up his things. "I'm a doctor, so believe me when I say he won't last if he goes on like this."

            "That's it?" Elena asked, looking relieved. "Blood loss and exhaustion?"

            The doctor smiled. "That's it, Miss. Unless maybe he's bleeding inside, but it's not likely, and there's not much I could do about it anyway. I have to go now, so I'll leave him in the capable-" Rude could have worn the man's lips twitched. "-hands of Professor Hojo. He can stitch our boy up all right."    

"Thanks for coming." Tseng began walking with him to the elevator. "Rude and I will see about your pay."

"That's not necessary-" Cummings began.

"I insist." Tseng glanced back. "Rude?"

_It's not worth it, Tseng, _Rude thought, and inwardly sighed. It wasn't Tseng's fault. Heidegger was determined to cover it all up, and so it fell to the Turks to perform the disagreeable tasks.

"I'd rather stay here," he said with some apprehension. Questioning Tseng's orders could sometimes be unwise.

Yep, he looked mad, but he didn't argue. "Fine," he said curtly.

"I'll help you, sir," Elena offered, eager to please.

Rude could have laughed at Tseng's comical expression. He didn't, though. He liked the nice young doctor, obviously skilled in his work. It'd be a terrible waste. 

"That's all right, Elena," Tseng said quickly, after he'd recovered. "I'll handle it." He left, Cummings following suit. He waved at them over his shoulder. Elena waved back. Rude didn't.

Hojo was already beginning to stitch up some of Reno's more serious gashed, muttering and cackling to himself. Rude noticed with a mixture of relief and some alarm that Reno's eyes were beginning to flutter. Relief that he was okay, alarm that he would kill Hojo by awakening to find him so close.

On second thought, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. Rude kept his mouth shut.

"I don't understand," Elena confided to Rude, stepping closer to him so she could speak softly. "What was Reno doing in that part of the city that got him beat up?"

Rude had an idea, but only told her part of it. "Probably those guys you ran into last night."

"Oh!" One hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God, they could have killed him!"

Rude nodded stiffly.

Elena was silent for a moment, obviously contemplating what Reno's death would have meant. When she did speak, she sounded troubled. "I wouldn't want to die like that. Alone and bloody in the street. And for what, really? Depends on what they want, right? But they just want to kill us." She seemed to be musing to herself, now. "But…is it only because we're Turks? I don't understand." She lapsed into silence, biting her only lip.

Something was bothering Rude, too. If Reno was in danger, then so was Elena, even if she didn't realize it. And he did not like that idea at all.

"Hey!" Elena cried suddenly. "What do you think you're doing?" 

This was directed at Professor Hojo, who had gotten out a large syringe filled with a strange greenish liquid. He was preparing to inject it in Reno's neck.

In three long strides Rude had crossed over to Hojo and had him by the collar. He said no words, just stared at the man with an expression of quiet promise.

"My, but you Turks do overreact," Hojo said, smoothly, but obviously having a hard time getting his breath. "An antibiotic, nothing more. We wouldn't want our young friend to get an _infection_, would we?" His nasty smile made Rude tighten his grip just a little bit.

"Professor Hojo, you were not told you use an 'antibiotic'," Elena said quietly. "And, frankly, none of us really trust you at all. So just follow orders, or you may find you have to resign."       

Rude blinked- it was the closest thing to a threat he had ever heard Elena say. Hojo coughed and stared at her in obvious surprise, but she stared back without flinching. 

"As you say, Miss Elena." He twisted a bit and obligingly Rude dropped him to the floor, where he staggered but managed to stay upright.

Reno suddenly gave a moan and made an attempt to sit up. "Christ, what have I been drinking?" he muttered with a hand to his head. He glanced up and saw the syringe in Hojo's hand. "Holy _shit_! You weren't going to stick me with that thing, were you?" 

"Reno!" Elena looked ready to throw her arms around him, but contained herself, luckily for both of them. Reno still looked uncharacteristically weak, and probably irritable. 

He looked around the lab with disgust. "Okay, how the hell did I get here?"

Rude gave Hojo one look and jerked a thumb to the door. Hojo glared, stuffed the syringe in a secret pocket in his coat, and stomped over to the elevator. As he pressed the button, he added, "Oh, Elena? Why don't you ask your esteemed leader exactly how he disposed of Cummings?" The elevator came and he boarded before anyone could think to reply.

"Dispose?" Elena repeated. Her brown eyes darted from Reno to Rude. "I…I'll be right back." She walked quickly to the elevator and pressed the button.

"Wait, Elena!" Rude said quickly, but she ignored him and stepped in.

"Who's Cummings?" Reno asked, still sitting on the table. "Or don't I want to know?"

Rude didn't bother answering. He looked intently into his partner's face, now washed clean of blood, but still in pretty bad shape. "Do you remember what happened?"

"What? Oh, that. Yeah, most of it." Reno shrugged, pulling his long legs up onto the table. "I managed, but barely."

"What do you mean?"

Reno looked at Rude for a long time before answering. "I'm losin' it, man," he said softly. "I can't handle this anymore. It's like I'm getting old, and I'm not even thirty. I'm getting tired." He shook his head.

"Reno…" Rude didn't know what to say. "What do you want to do?"

"Do?" Reno barked a laugh. "I don't want to _do _anything. I'd kinda like for everything to just…stop." He paused. "It's like…when Wat has the nightstick on you. It's so intense that your think you're going to die. And every second it gets worse and worse, but you're kind of fading, and you don't feel it as much. Suddenly, right before you can't take it anymore, it's a two-way street: Do you live or do you die? You don't know which way you wanna go- neither one's a very attractive prospect. But you don't control whether you do or not. It's not up to you. So, in that split second before you discover whether you'll live this time around, you stop caring. You honestly _don't give a damn_. All you know is you want out, one way or the other.

"It's like I'm frozen like that."

Reno lapsed into silence, his gaze fixed on a thread he was picking from the hem of his right leg. Rude had the distinctly uneasy feeling he knew exactly what Reno was talking about. He thought the analogy to Wat and the nightstick strangely ironic, since Reno was still carrying the weapon around. And had showed no inclination to give it up. 

Still. There had to be a way out of that prison, so to speak. Rude said, "It doesn't always feel like that, though. Right?"

Reno didn't respond at first, then nodded. He was winding the thread from his pants around his index finger now, tinting it a faint red. Rude watched it slowly turn purple, then a pale blue.

"Yeah," Reno agreed. "Like when I'm sloshed, or I'm…I dunno. Distracted. It's not usually so bad. Just today I wasn't distracted anymore. I mean…" He leaned forward. The thread wound around his index finger had turned the surrounding skin fleshy white.

"What?" Rude brought his eyes back up to Reno's face.

"It hit me, today," Reno said vehemently. "Wat's dead. He's not holding the nightstick anymore. I can choose for myself what road I want to take. Except it feels like someone else has it on me, because I still can't move."

Rude found he was needing a drink very badly. "So what are you going to do?" he asked for the second time.

Reno unwound the thread from his finger and snapped it off the cuff of his pants. Blood began to move again, coloring the skin. "I'll wait," he said with the ghost of a smile. "I'll focus on Lirves and Cloud and that business with Sephiroth returning from the dead. I'm coming back to work soon, just because I need something to keep me occupied. We'll wait and see what direction I take."

Rude nodded. "Well, I'm glad you're okay." An understatement, really. Before the doctor's arrival, Rude had been scared shitless. Faced with the possibility that Reno could be dying, Rude had realized how horribly lonely life would be without him. And it wasn't just that the redhead was a good drinking buddy. Reno understood him, was the only one who did. Not even Tseng came close, even though he'd also spent time in Death Row. Tseng was…somehow alien, really. A good man to work for, but never a close friend. Without Reno, Rude would be alone with the problem of training Elena.

"Wanna know something weird?" Reno said suddenly. "That Cloud Strife. You met him?"

Rude shook his head. Strife. He'd been in charge of that small group that invaded headquarters, right before President Shinra had been killed. Rude had seen him, but not spoken to or come face to face with him.

"I did," Reno said. He had a vacant, glazed look in his eyes- the look of a man going over some puzzling instance in his mind. "When I was looking for that chick, Aeris Gainsborough. He was there, and he seemed familiar. I might have seen him before. I dunno." Reno shrugged. "But that's not the weird thing. He stepped in front of her, looking very determined to protect her. He looked at me, opened his mouth. And he got all spastic. Confused, you know?"

Rude felt the slow chill of dawning horror. He wanted to speak, but his jaw was clenched so tight he couldn't open his mouth.

"He mumbled something like, 'I know you…that uniform…'" Reno went on. "Then he seemed to come out of it. Stared at me a second longer, then ran off with that girl, the Ancient. I didn't try too hard to catch them- I was a little buzzed at the time, you may remember- and, to tell the truth, I was sort of freaked. I didn't _want_ to meet up with him again."

_But now you do,_ thought Rude in a scattered sort of way. _You do now that you have a score to settle. _

Reno hopped off the lab table and began buttoning his shirt, now stiff with blood and no longer anywhere near white. "I'm going home," he announced. "See you tonight?"

Rude was going to shake his head and was surprised to find himself nodding. The bar might do him good. "Yeah, all right. Better check in with Tseng before you leave."

Reno rolled his eyes. "Screw that." Walking a little unsteadily, he crossed the room and went out the door.  

~

            By the time he and Dr. Cummings reached the ground floor, Tseng was fuming. Rude's flat refusal of orders was inexcusable. The Turks were becoming lax. If Rude needed a reminder of what they were supposed to be about, Tseng would be glad to provide him with one.

            He felt the hard surface of the gun pressing against his hip and suppressed a sigh. He had to stop lying to himself- the real reason he was angry with Rude was because he didn't want to do this alone. It was always better with the company of someone else, someone to lighten the burden…share the guilt.

            Tseng realized he was standing undecided before the huge double doors leading out into the street. (_Where one more brutal murder won't make a difference,_ he thought caustically.) Cummings was watching him with a strange mixture of amusement and pity.

            "You're a free man, aren't you?" the doctor said quietly. Tseng looked at him sharply, sure he was being mocked…but Cummings only stood there, holding his black bag. He sounded sad. "You're not so trapped as you think."

            "I don't know what you're talking about," Tseng snapped irritably. He disliked the way the man was looking at him, that piercing gaze full of a strange pity and completely devoid of fear. "And I'm not sure you do, either."

            "Do I?" For a moment Cummings' stare intensified, and Tseng nearly stepped back, severely rattled. He felt naked, exposed, as though his calm, stiff visage was nothing, hid nothing. He forced himself to stand still, but could not help dropping his eyes.

            "Goodbye, sir. I'm glad I could be of service."

            Tseng head Cummings speak- finally with a hint of sarcasm- but didn't acknowledge. He kept his eyes on the floor, teeth clenched. He did not look up, but he heard Cummings swing open the double doors and step outside. For a brief instant, Tseng recognized he was at a crossroads: He could do his duty, or he could look the other way, succumbing to the gnawing guilt inside.

            It was just like that time…his first mission after being freed from Death Row…

            Tseng had his eyes closed, but he saw flowers. Brilliant, colorful hues arrayed in delicate nosegays around the house. A vase by the window, a garland of lilies strung across the opposite wall, hung in graceful arches like the sweep of a girl's brow. Their scent filled him, almost suffocating him with their sweetness, but he didn't mind. Their dizzying beauty seemed to make it, all of it, worthwhile- if it wasn't for what he had to do now.

            He looked at the two women in front of him: One, an aging, tired widow staring at him with hostility; the other, the other…

            Gentle green eyes, wise, knowing beyond their years, latched onto his. Her hair was brown and thick, bound behind her in a single twist. Her skin was flawless ivory, her lips pale rosebuds. Her beauty, while never small, seemed now almost overwhelming, like the scent of the flowers. She was herself a flower in full bloom, Aeris, though she had yet to realize it.

            Tseng's mission, his first, was this: To track her down and make her comply with Shinra's orders. To use brute force, if necessary. 

            Tracking her down had been easy. He'd known Aeris' house since he was young- and she'd been hard to forget. He still had her picture, the image that had kept him alive when he thought he'd die of despair.

            "That is why Shinra would like Aeris' cooperation…"

            He trailed off, having recited his prepared speech without hearing a word echo in his ears. Aeris, although seven or eight years his junior, always seemed mature, wiser than her years. Now, however, she backed away from him, shaking her head. She looked pleadingly at the older woman Tseng knew as Elmyra.

            "He's wrong!" she said desperately. "I'm not an Ancient! I'm not!"

            But she was. There had always been something strange about her, an air of mystery, magic. It had to be that, her heritage as an Ancient- or Cetra- that had bewitched him so long ago…

            He pushed his dark sunglasses further up his nose to make sure his eyes were completely hidden, but he was already certain Aeris didn't recognize him. His years at Death Row had changed him, inside and out. His face, his whole bearing had changed. Now he was a man. A man with dark secrets, but nonetheless a man.

            A tiny part of him almost wanted Aeris to recognize him, to tear off his glasses and demand to know what he was doing with hateful Turks…but he was mostly glad she didn't. He could protect her this way, somehow, he was sure. Keep tabs on her from afar, or perhaps convince her to come peacefully. Before Shinra sent someone else in his place- someone who might hurt her.

            They exchanged more words, but to no avail. At length Aeris turned and ran blindly out the door. Tseng sighed and tried to go after her, but Elmyra blocked his path.

            "You will leave these premises immediately, sir," she said resolutely. She was almost a head shorter than him.

            Tseng hesitated. He couldn't risk telling Aeris, but… "It's me, Elmyra," he said at last, removing the shades.

            She squinted at him, the tiny creases around her eyes deepening. "Who…Tseng?" She frowned. "But why are you with Shinra? I should think you'd be the last person to hound her like this!"

            "Please. I don't have time to explain it all." Her studied her carefully, the middle-aged woman who'd baked him cookies as a child. "This is the way it is. I need Aeris' cooperation. I don't want to have to hurt her. Or you."

            "Tseng!" Elmyra snapped, staring at him with a new disgust. "Listen to what you're saying! Aeris will never have anything to do with you _filthy _Turks as long as-"

            He grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall, making her gasp. A vase of flowers on the table tipped and smashed on the floor. 

            "Do you want them to send someone else?" he snarled. "I don't want her killed any more than you do! I'm trying to help!"

            He felt her trembling under his fingers, but her eyes were calm, cool, clear, so much like Aeris'. "Who are you trying to help, Tseng?" she said softly. "You know Aeris will never give in to Shinra. What will you do when it comes down to it?"

            That reached him. Slowly, shakily, he removed his hands from her shoulders and lifted them to his face, where they clenched before his eyes. With an effort he forced them to his sides.

            "I…I'm going to go talk to her." He took a breath and straightened his tie. "I give you my word I won't hurt her."

            She didn't smile, but said only, "I know you wouldn't, Tseng."

            He nodded, then turned and stepped outside. It was just evening. Tseng glanced at his watch once and started down the path to the garden, where he knew she would be. He would have to hurry if he wanted to catch the train back to the office. But there would be time for this. He would go to her, explain everything. Beseech her forgiveness. Maybe, just maybe she would…

            He rounded a bend and stopped.

            Aeris was there on a bench, with her back to them. But she wasn't alone. Sitting close beside her was a young man about her own age, with jet-black hair and clear blue eyes. Later Tseng would discover his name was Zack, and that he was a soldier in Shinra's army. 

            But that didn't matter yet. What mattered was that his hand was touching hers, his finger wiping away her tears, his lips gently meeting her own. She held fast to him, with the night closing in around them.

            Tseng watched, and all the emotions careening through him- confusion, love, guilt, hope- slowly drained away. He watched them, wondering why he'd ever dreamed that Aeris would wait for him, that she would care that he had only survived the last few years in hopes of seeing her again. He watched them, and in his mind, he heard Kaiser laughing.

            After everything he'd been through for her, she'd found someone else.

            He realized he was still clutching his sunglasses in his hand. He dropped them to the ground, then deliberately lifted his foot and smashed them. Never again would he hide behind those dark frames. He was who he was. And he had a job to do.

            Would he…?

            The moment was a turning point, a crossroads. He could walk away, pretend nothing had ever happened. Let Aeris live her peaceful life and he would never again bother her. He could even make sure Shinra stayed away from her. She could be happy with Zack.

            Or he could make him suffer. Make them both suffer.

            Training as a Turk could make a man very bitter.

            Tseng watched them a moment more and smiled. He could make them both very miserable indeed.

            He turned and was about to head to the train station, but he saw Elmyra standing in the doorway. Her face held compassion, but there was a guarded suspicion there that had not been apparent before.

            Did she know? Did she suspect?

            Tseng discovered he didn't care. He looked at her, looked through her, and then walked past. He needed to catch his train.

            Over the weeks, Tseng continued down the path he'd chosen. He pulled some strings and, for some odd reason, Zack was called away on a long leave of absence to Nibelheim. Nibelheim was a dangerous place, and General Sephiroth was prone to acts of violence. When Shinra received a notice later describing how Zack had been killed in an accident, Tseng was still not satisfied. 

            He wanted Aeris. He wanted her to regret having betrayed him. But that part would have to wait.

            Now Tseng reopened his eyes and shoved open to doors leading out into the street. Cummings was slowly walking away, seeming in no great hurry. His black bag swung back and forth.

            Tseng loaded his gun and fired a single bullet. It his Dr. Cummings square in the back of the head. The man went down without a sound.

            Without breaking a stride, Tseng holstered the gun and went to the body. One kick was all it took to flip it over. 

            "I'm sorry," Tseng told the sightless eyes, and he truly was. "But the Turks were all I could ever count on. It's the only way I can go. I'm sure you understand."

            He went back inside and called security to dispose of the body.

**~Author's Note~**

My apologies for the massive delay. I can promise updates will be coming faster now that I have access to the internet once again. (Yeah, that would help)

Ideas? Suggestions? We seem to have reached a stalemate with the interior Turk situation, haven't we? *grin* I believe I might have a way to throw everything to pieces again, however…

Love you for sticking with me! 

            ~Lila


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